


Secrets in Your Eyes

by montecarlogirl87



Category: due South
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlogirl87/pseuds/montecarlogirl87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I basically hated Victoria with every fiber of my being. So I wrote a fic where Fraser ends up with someone who treats him right. There's no bad guy, there's no real story arc, just relationship schmoop. Judge Me. Also... title from one of Paul Gross' songs, not that it really fits, but because I hate titles, so I stole it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He could smell the coffee as soon as he opened his bedroom door.

Thank god for Ma and her overbearing but lovable need to take care of everyone. He was running late as it was and had already resigned himself to the vaguely coffee flavored sledge they had at the station.

But he most certainly had enough time to pour some of Ma’s coffee into a thermos before heading out the door.

Halfway down the stairs Frannie’s voice pierced through his little moment of reflection only to be battled by Maria’s rush of Italian expletives as a rebuttal. Ma of course just cooed at them like the dueling siblings were the most precious thing on the planet.

Ray said good morning to no one in particular, as no one was really listening, except Ma of course, but her reply was drowned out as Tony decided to weigh in on whatever the girls were arguing about. Ray had perfected the ability to tune them out over the years.

He poured some coffee into his thermos, gave Ma a quick kiss on the cheek and was headed for the front door when Frannie called after him.

“Ray! Ray wait, you gotta read the paper!”

He didn’t even bother to pause, still headed for the door.

“I don’t have time to read the paper Frannie, I’m running late.”

“Ray! You have to!” she called after him, jogging to beat him to the door, “Look on page five,” she said, jamming it into his chest.

“I’ll look at the station,” he groaned, shouldering past her and out into the cold.

“Ray you need to read that damn paper!” she yelled, stomping her foot as she watched him toss the paper into the passenger seat of the Riviera before driving off.

Needless to say, he did not, in fact, read that damn paper.

He did actually take it into the station with him, fully intending to read it, but it got thrown onto his desk and forgotten about. Through the course of the day it had just become increasingly buried in forms and paperwork and printouts and the detritus of the day.

Fraser showed up at lunch, brought Ray an amazing meatball sub from down the street. Fraser just hummed in disappointment and started cleaning and straightening the disaster on his desk.

Ray didn’t even try to stop him, he knew what a useless endeavor that was.

He was halfway through his sub when Benny picked up the paper, now folded and creased haphazardly, and asked if it was anything important. Ray wiped some sauce from his lip and shook his head absentmindedly. Fraser nodded and tossed it in the trash. That was the exact moment he remembered and squawked around his bite of food and made a grab for it.

Fraser froze, eyes wide and looked at Ray as if he was awaiting punishment.

“I apologize Ray, I thought you meant that you didn’t want to keep…”

Ray waved his hand to cut him off and swallowed the bite of food he had nearly choked on.

“It’s alright Benny. I just totally forgot about it. Frannie shoved it at me this morning and told me I had to read it,” he said unfolding it and opening it to find whatever she had been so adamant about.

Fraser relaxed, seemingly glad he hadn’t upset Ray in some way and nodded to himself, finally opening his own sandwich to eat, now that Ray’s desk was acceptably clean.

Ray turned to page five, smoothing the paper down, eyebrows scrunched as he realized page five was the obits.

He scanned names, wondering what would have worked Frannie up so much. Family member? Criminal?

“Holy shit…”

Fraser paused from his lunch and looked up at him.

“Is everything alright Ray?”

“Old man Lyman died,” he whispered, leaning back in his chair and reading the short blurb that had been printed about the man.

“Did I know this ‘Old man Lyman’?”

“Naw,” Ray said distracted, glancing up at Fraser before bringing himself back to the present and refolding the paper.

“Naw, I knew him as a kid. Grew up with his daughter. He owns, _owned_ ,” he corrected himself, “an auto shop out in Lincoln Park. God, it’s been years since I’ve been out there, I shoulda kept in touch better…” he trailed off.

“His daughter, Tayla, and I were pretty close when we were younger. She was a total tomboy and he let us kids hang out at the shop as long as we didn’t get into trouble, we were always there after school.”

He finally looked up after a moment, lost in memories of the past, and ran his eyes over Fraser.

“Good, you’re in your brown uniform.”

“This is good?”

Ray nodded and stood up, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. Fraser followed him as expected.

“It’s not generally customary to wear red to a funeral,” he said as he headed for the door, Fraser on his heels.

 

* * *

 

He kicked himself for not reading the paper earlier because by the time they made it across town the service was long over and people were sharing their condolences and slowly dispersing from the cemetery grounds.

Ray parked the Riv behind the line of cars and he and Fraser stood quietly on the outskirts. It had been so many years since he had seen Tayla. She had moved to Florida shortly after high school graduation. She came home to visit a few times in the following years, but even that had been more than a decade ago.

He felt like an outsider, standing away from everybody, but Benny, Benny always at his side, and interloping on some stranger’s funeral. Except this wasn’t some stranger, this was someone he had once considered family. Someone he used to see on practically a daily basis. How had so many years passed without him even noticing?

He finally spotted her through the thinning crowd. She looked different of course. She had aged well, looked downright beautiful in a black pantsuit she never would have worn when they were younger. She hugged whoever she had been talking to and he could tell the moment she spotted him. He could see her freeze for a second and her eyes go wide, before she smiled and pulled back to say goodbye to whomever she was with.

Ray grinned and dropped his head.

“I assume that’s Tayla,” Benny asked quietly next to him.

Ray nodded, “Yeah.”

“Would you like some privacy?”

Ray turned to look at him, “That’s alright Benny,” he grinned, letting Fraser know he appreciated it but it wasn’t needed.

Tayla finally made it to them from across the manicured lawn and walked straight up to him without a word and crushed him into a hug.

“Jesus Ray…” she breathed.

“Hey Tay,” he grinned, squeezing back just as tightly.

Ray pulled back to see Fraser with a soft smile, rubbing at his eyebrow.

“Tayla, this is my partner, Benny.”

“Benton Fraser,” he smiled, holding out his hand to shake. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“You too,” she grinned. “Dad told me you were a cop,” she said, looking back at Ray.

“Detective now, but…” he shrugged, trailing off. “Jesus Tay… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t,” she waved her hand to cut him off. “You know I hate that shit. It sucks. It hurts. Life doesn’t stop. Been here before,” she said sarcastically.

Ray smiled sadly and nodded, remembering all those years ago standing in this same cemetery with her after her mother had lost her fight against breast cancer.

“He went in his sleep, can’t ask much more than that.”

Ray looped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest in a one armed hug.

Fraser smiled to himself, feeling a kind of secondhand warmth from just watching the comfort and obvious familiarity between the two.

Tayla finally pulled back, letting her hand rest on Ray’s chest for a moment more.

“Some of us, family and the guys and stuff, met at the shop earlier before the service. There’s still some food platters and at least one cooler full of drinks left if you guys wanna help me finish ‘em.”

“Hell yeah, me and you got a lot of catching up to do,” Ray smiled, “Benny?” he asked looking over at him.

“I’d be honored to,” he smiled, glad that he had had the early shift at the Consulate that morning, leaving his evening free.

Tayla grinned and nodded. “Awesome, lemme just finish saying goodbye to everybody.”

She wandered off to finish thanking everyone for coming and saying goodbye to the stragglers that were still milling about the gravesite.

 

* * *

 

Ray and Fraser beat her to the shop, as even after saying her goodbyes to family and friends she had needed to follow up with the funeral company.

Ray whistled long and low when the black Buick Grand National pulled into the parking lot.

Tayla was grinning just as wide as he was when she stepped out of the car.

“Look at you, still got the National from high school. It looks better than it did back then.”

“What about you, that slick ass Riv?” she grinned, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

“That’s actually my second,” he spit out, mock-glaring over at Fraser.

Fraser’s face locked down and Ray just _knew_ he was itching to say something about how absolutely necessary it had been for the sake of their lives and justice to blow up his first Riviera but was holding himself back because that Canadian politeness deemed it was not acceptable to start such an argument after just returning from a funeral.

Ray snorted to himself. Half amused, half concerned at how well he really did know Benny.

“Whoa, there’s a story there,” Tayla laughed, looking between the two of them, “Come on, you can tell me all about it,” she said, unlocking the door to the garage.

 

* * *

 

Tayla veered off to the break room to get the leftover food from the fridge inside. Ray slowly made his way from where the office and lobby met over to where they opened up into the shop itself. He felt like he was back in high school, coming here after a basketball game and hanging out until well after dark. His hand found the light switch right where he remembered it and he grinned as the fluorescent lights flickered on and began brightening the large space.

There were different, newer, cars in some of the stalls, and clearly things had been changed over the years, but it was just like he remembered it.

Right down to the grey and black Dodge Power Wagon that was parked in the open area by the door, away from the lifts.

The tailgate was down and there were folding tables and rolling mechanic’s carts, a mismatched jumble of chairs all positioned not far from it, where he assumed everyone had hung out before the services earlier.

Tayla slipped around him, and Fraser, where he hovered not far away, and slid a couple plastic deli trays onto the table.

“Dig in boys,” she grinned, popping open the top on a cooler by her feet and reaching into the ice slush for a beer, handing one to Ray. “Benton?” she asked.

“Just water for me, thank you kindly,” he smiled, accepting an ice cold plastic bottle from her.

“I can’t believe he still has this thing,” Ray grinned, slapping the side of the truck’s bed before his face fell with the realization that _he_ didn’t still have it, it was Tayla’s now.

Tayla nodded and chuckled, hopped up onto the tailgate and placed her hand on the cool metal like she could feel the past through it.

“I still remember learning to drive in this monstrosity,” she said wistfully. “Can’t believe how much I missed it.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ray asked quietly.

Tayla sighed heavily. She reached down and pulled off the black boots she was wearing, tossing them behind her into the truck’s bed before turning sideways, leaning against the side and wiggling her toes against the metal.

“Stay,” she said simply.

Ray paused from where he was building a cracker sandwich for the leftovers and looked up at her.

“What about Florida?”

She shrugged. “I told them I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do when I got up here. I can’t just leave this place.”

“What about Logan?” he asked, he hadn’t seen her older brother at the funeral.

“He’s stationed in Japan.”

“Holy shit. So he’s still in the service.”

She laughed, “Yeah, he loves it over there. He’s going for the full retirement package. He offered to take some leave and come back, but there’s not really a point. He couldn’t have gotten all the paperwork in order in time to help with arrangements, there’s not much he could do here besides just _be here_. I told him not to waste his time, take it during the holidays like he normally does.”

“Her older brother is in the Air Force,” Ray said, feeling bad that Fraser probably felt left out. All these little details and reminders of a shared past that he wasn’t privy to.

Fraser just nodded.

“I was talking with the guys about it earlier, they’re more than happy to help me run it from afar. But…” she paused, shrugging her shoulders, “I’ve been away from home for a long time, kinda feels like this is where I should be right now. Besides, I’m getting a little old to be pushing around half ton animals and doing manual labor from dawn till dusk, my back already hates me for it.”

“Ray told me you worked with horses,” Fraser said, recalling the drive from the station to the cemetery, where Ray had filled him in on some of the details and history of his friendship for the girl they were headed to see.

Tayla nodded, “Thoroughbreds. I moved to Florida after high school, started working with the racehorses down there. Some of those huge breeding farms are gorgeous.”

“Fraser’s a Mountie,” Ray grinned. “He’s good with horses.”

“So that’s what that uniform is,” Tayla grinned. “Had me wondering.”

Fraser smirked, rubbed at his eyebrow and sat back in his seat. “While I possibly have more experience than the average person, it’s not something I have exposure to on a daily basis. The RCMP themselves don’t use horses much anymore, outside of the Musical Ride, or perhaps in the more remote postings.”

Ray rolled his eyes and resumed picking at the food laid out.

Tayla just smiled and took another sip of her beer.

“I’d kill to go ride right now,” she groaned, tilting her head back. “Just spend an hour or two out on a trail, decompress from today. That’s definitely a perk I’m gonna miss, being able to just saddle up and ride whenever I wanted.”

“It certainly can be soothing,” Fraser smiled in sympathy.

“You ride?”

“On occasion. It’s been quite some time since I have and even longer since I did it for recreation.”

“We should go sometime,” she grinned.

“I’d enjoy that,” he agreed.

“That’s all you guys,” Ray said, waving his hand, “Not getting me on one of those things unless my life depends on it.”

Tayla laughed and shared a look with Fraser.

“You know you’re gonna have to come see Ma right?”

“Oh my god yes, I never found a single Italian place in Florida that came anywhere close to her cooking. She doing okay?”

“Yeah, she’s good. Frannie’s back at the house. Maria and Tony come and go as they please, with all their rugrats. Everything’s just as crazy as you remember. But happier since dad,” he said and Tayla nodded, remembering the temper of Ray’s old man.

“I shoulda came around more, kept in contact, with both of you,” Ray sighed. “Hell, I shoulda brought the Riv to him.”

Tayla waved her hand to dismiss his guilt, tossing her empty beer can towards a trash bin not far away.

“That’s life Ray. We drift, that’s what we do. Hell, he was _my_ father and I moved a thousand miles away. I damn sure didn’t visit home as much as I should have. Didn’t visit any of you.”

“Yeah, well, that shit stops now,” he grinned.

“Agreed,” she smiled back.

 

* * *

 

Over the course of the next few months Tayla had her belongings shipped up from down south, officially moving back into her old family home.

Her father had been very old school, so while the shop had of course changed and adapted over the years, and the crew of guys working there had kept everything in good condition, it still showed the age and layers of life that accumulate over the course of operating for so long.

The paperwork alone, which her father had never been particularly adept at, would take months to sort through and purge. Updating and uploading important information into new computer systems.

She was lucky she had a good crew. A couple old timers that had been there when she had left home and a few new ones that she met for the first time when she came back. They all supported her though, and more importantly they all got along. There had been a little hesitation at first over the fact that she was a female, stereotype of the profession that she was unfortunately more than familiar with, but they learned pretty quickly that she knew what she was talking about. The fact she had been raised by the same man that had trained many of them went a long way.

They were all on board with updating the shop. While change was always hard, the old grime and clutter of parts and past was comfortable to all of them, they were all saddened by the loss of her father and welcomed the fresh start.

The building got a new coat of paint and signs on the outside. The office and lobby and break room freshened and decluttered. The inside of the shop had upstairs storage fit to burst with old parts and machines and she actually kind of enjoyed getting absolutely filthy each day digging through it all bit by bit. It was like going on a treasure hunt.

She found old parts and tools that she either kept if she thought they might be useful or set aside to sell or discard. Many times she just had to stop and sit when she found something that conjured up a string of memories.

Through the whole process Ray was her partner in crime. Many nights spent after work helping her clean and spruce up the place. He enjoyed it. It felt like going home. Somewhere he knew, remembered, and it was nice to catch up with Tayla after all the years.

Fraser of course by extension was there quite a bit too. Following his partner and always more than happy to help. He was surprised with how much he enjoyed it. A day spent doing manual work was always preferable to him than sitting at the Consulate filling out paperwork. And he rather enjoyed seeing Ray dirty and happy as well, a bit of a shock really, after all the time of knowing Ray preferring to be clean and well dressed.

Tayla was far from prim and proper herself. While she had been every bit professional and composed the day he met her at the funeral, she was clearly still the tomboy Ray had remembered and farm manager she had been in her life down south. She often wore jeans and t-shirts, worn with use and memories and had no qualms about getting filthy and sweaty, which Fraser could respect. Ray and Tayla even took it upon themselves to teach him a little about cars. He had read a few manuals back in his grandparents’ library, but he relished the chance at hands-on experience.

Tayla spoiled Diefenbaker, just like everyone else. But she refused to give him junk food like donuts and candy bars. Dief was horribly rude the first week or so, complaining to Fraser that she was purposely being mean to him, which Fraser in turn chastised him for. He got over it pretty quickly though, because while she wouldn’t feed him sugar coated carbs, she more often than not had a bag of beef jerky or pork rinds stashed somewhere just for him.

It wasn’t a huge revamp and renovation. It’s not like they walked in one morning and everything was different and clean and new. Only bits and pieces changing and being cleared a little at a time. But one night, the four of them sitting around relaxing with the garage door wide open to let in the breeze and a couple demolished boxes of pizza on the tailgate of the truck, they all fell silent looking around the shop. She and Ray still felt comfortable, still felt like it was their old haunt, but it was definitely Tayla’s now. Her fingerprint was all over it. It felt like restoring a car. It was still the same rig you remembered and loved, but it was refreshed and ready for a new set of memories and miles.

She was glad that Ray and Benton were there with her. Ray was still her old friend, maybe they were even better friends now, years of life under both their belts and all the dramas and insecurities of youth gone. But she was equally glad to have Benton there, maybe not as familiar, but over the course of their project they had become comfortable and friendly. Enough so that he had frequently come over after his own shifts, by himself, and worked with her until Ray finished at the station and joined them later.

She had spent so many years away from home, let the connections of her past fade and crumble over time, for better or for worse, she was glad to have rekindled and found such strong friendships so quickly after returning.

She smiled to herself, glanced at both the boys in turn and got up and walked into the shop’s office.

Fraser and Ray shared a look, saying without words that neither knew what she was up to.

She returned with a camera in hand, set it on the tailgate and fiddled with some of its controls.

“Come on boys, I want a picture,” she smiled.

They both hefted themselves from their chairs, Fraser waving Dief over, and crowded in close, none of them caring about the dust and grime they were covered in, except Dief of course, still as white as ever, and smiled as the camera’s timer went off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tayla's Buick Grand National and Dodge Power Wagon
> 
> [](http://s16.photobucket.com/user/montecarlogurl87/media/FicBanners/Grand%20National_zpsp2mzdp7x.jpg.html)
> 
> [ ](http://s16.photobucket.com/user/montecarlogurl87/media/FicBanners/Power%20Wagon_zpswfnd2k2b.jpg.html)   
> 


	2. Chapter 2

Ray wasn’t sure what had changed in the short time he had been in the bathroom, but it was obviously something important, judging by the amount of people that were swarmed around his desk. He could just barely see a flash of red through the throng of bodies, which didn’t surprise him at all, that Benny was in the middle of it all.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! What is going on here?! And why is it going on at _my_ desk?!”

Gardino looked up at him, chewing on something and sent him an annoying wink before sauntering off.

Huey’s head popped up next. “Vecchio man, these cookies are a religious experience.”

It was at that moment that the crowd started to skitter away, all clutching their hands to their chests like rats running away with their spoils and Ray’s eyes went wide as he spotted Tayla sitting in his chair with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Hi Ray.”

“Are those…” he whispered. “Are those what I think they are?”

“I dunno,” she blinked, so clearly not as innocent as she was playing. “How am I supposed to know what you’re thinking?”

Fraser bit back a smile, eyes jumping back and forth between the two.

“Don’t screw with me Tay,” Ray said, holding up his finger, any threat he was going for lost by the fact that he sounded desperate.

He looked down into the Tupperware container that was sitting on his desk and whimpered when he saw nothing but crumbs left.

“Oh come on! Vultures! All of you!” he shouted, glaring at every single person in the bullpen, including Welsh through his office window, where he was cheerfully dunking a cookie into his coffee.

“This isn’t right Tay, this just isn’t right. Come on, tell me you’re joking.”

Fraser’s head was cocked, watching Ray, unsure if he should be concerned or amused at how upset his partner appeared.

Ray glanced at him, looking for support but was distracted by the lost Mountie look he had.

“She makes these cookies,” he started, waving his hands around. “These freaking _amazing_ cookies. These freaking _addictive_ cookies,” he growled, “And she won’t freaking tell anyone what is in them,” he complained, glaring at Tayla.

“Oh! Maybe you can figure it out! With your super Mountie sense! Here, lick the container!” he said, grabbing the plastic tub and shoving it towards Fraser’s face, who leaned back slightly and politely pushed it back towards the desk causing Ray’s face to fall.

“It is certainly possible I might be able to decipher some of the ingredients…” he started. Only to stop in his tracks when Tayla arched her eyebrow at him.

“But if it is indeed her secret recipe, I would be honor bound not to reveal its details,” he hastened to add. Tayla just grinned.

Ray glared at him before looking back to Tayla.

“Come on Tay, I haven’t had those cookies in years. _Decades_ even!”

Tayla smirked, hooking the heel of her boot into the metal handle of the file drawer on the side of his desk and pulled it out slowly, revealing another container of said magical cookies.

“Keep it quiet,” she grinned.

Ray dove for the container, popping the top and grabbing one in each hand, biting into one savagely.

“Oh…oh my _god_ …” he moaned, closing his eyes and taking another bite. “Oh yeah Benny…”

Fraser’s eyes went comically wide.

“Oh yeah, that’s it…

Fraser cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his serge and glanced around the room, grateful none of the other detectives seemed to be paying attention to Ray’s outburst.

“You gotta try these Fraser,” he said, shoving one towards him as he grabbed another for himself.

Fraser took a bite, although not as enthusiastically as Ray, and let the flavors rest on his tongue.

He hummed, took another bite.

“I agree Ray, these cookies are quite delicious. I think I detect…” he trailed off. Paused. Leaned into Tayla’s ear and whispered something.

She grinned and nodded, leaned back to whisper something else into his ear.

He smiled to himself and stood back up straight, nodding, “That is very clever.”

Ray was still munching away, but glaring back and forth between the two of them.

“I hate you both.”

Tayla laughed and stood up from his desk. “I gotta get back to the shop. _Try_ not to eat them all in one go,” she grinned, leaning in to kiss Ray’s cheek even as he growled at her. She turned to give Fraser the same treatment, which he accepted with a slight blush. He had slowly become accustomed to her hugs and displays of affection during their work at the auto shop.

She leaned over to ruffle Dief’s fur where he was eating his own cookie on the floor before heading for the exit. Turning back to see Ray diving in for another cookie right before she made it through the door, she looked up and shared a smile with Fraser, who nodded his goodbye.

“You’re not gonna tell me are you?” Ray grumbled, taking his seat now that she had vacated it.

Fraser’s spine snapped straight.

“I gave her my word Ray.”

Ray just groaned.

“See this eye roll? It has your name on it.”

 

* * *

 

Fraser had to admit, he was rather relieved when his phone rang.

He paused from the form he had been filling out and picked up the receiver.

“Canadian Consulate, Constable Fraser.”

“Yo bro.”

Tayla looked up from where she was cleaning her nails with her pocket knife and gave Ray a look.

“Don’t ever say that again.”

Ray eloquently replied by sticking out his tongue.

“Ray?”

“Tay’s gonna pick up food. You still headed this way for lunch?”

“Yes Ray. I apologize for running late. Inspector Thatcher assigned me a rather copious amount of paperwork this morning. I’ve been working through it as quickly as possible, and to be perfectly honest, I enlisted Constable Turnbull’s assistance on a portion…”

“That’s the spirit. Share the pain.”

“Well I do feel somewhat guilty. Although he seems to rather enjoy the…”

“Benny. I don’t care.”

“Understood.”

“What do you want to eat?”

“Whatever you wish Ray. I have no preference.”

Tayla was still watching Ray.

“He’s not gonna tell you is he?”

Ray shook his head and Tayla nodded, getting up to head towards the door.

“Hey!” he squawked, pulling the phone away from his mouth. “Aren’t you gonna ask what _I_ want?!”

“Nope,” she grinned, twirling her car keys around her finger.

“Bitch!”

“Jerk!” she called back as she disappeared down the hallway.

“Ray!” Fraser yelped in shock from the other end of the line. “Manners! She is a lady!”

Ray groaned and thumped his head onto his desk. What did he ever do in his life to deserve friends like these?

 

* * *

 

Fraser was leaning against the railing, inhaling the cool air that was rolling off Lake Michigan. Diefenbaker had wandered off, no doubt on the hunt for any discarded food.

“I thought I recognized that hat.”

He looked to the side to see Tayla approaching him, hands in the pockets of her coat.

“Good evening Tayla,” he smiled, accepting a hug from her. “How are you?”

“Eh,” she shrugged, turning her face into the wind to blow her hair out of her eyes. “Been going through a bunch of paperwork at the shop. Found a stash from back when my mom was still doing the books, I hadn’t seen that handwriting in years,” she sighed. “I got sick of being inside and staring at numbers.”

Fraser nodded and smiled, “Much too nice a night to spend indoors.”

“Indeed,” she grinned. “Florida was hardly wilderness, I’m sure nothing like you’re used to. But at least the ranch was out away from the city. I miss the fields. Used to park my car out behind the barn and eat dinner while looking at the stars,” she reminisced, looking up at the sky, not near as impressive, clouded with Chicago’s light. “You prolly think I’m crazy,” she grinned, looking sideways at him. “Calling Florida the country.”

He smirked and shook his head. “I’ve never visited Florida so I can’t judge. I can certainly sympathize though. I’ve lived here a couple years now and I still can’t say I have grown accustomed to the noise and constant commotion. The stars might be different in Canada, more perhaps, but I miss them the same,” he said, looking up at the sky before sharing a smile with her.

“You feel like getting some ice cream?” she grinned.

That is, of course, the moment Diefenbaker reappeared and barked his agreement.

“I don’t believe she was asking you,” Fraser chided.

Dief grumbled.

“Well yes, I would assume you were invited as well.”

Tayla playfully tugged on Dief’s ear.

“Come on gobble gut.”

He licked her fingers and trotted off in the direction of the nearest ice cream vendor, tail held high.

Fraser shook his head. “Incorrigible.”

Tayla laughed and looped her arm through his, following the white swish of a tail further ahead.

 

* * *

 

After their ice cream, which Dief failed to get a second helping of, despite his grumbling, they walked her home.

Tayla had always been pretty headstrong, refused to ever play the helpless girl card. She had a weapon’s permit when she was in Florida, she had yet to apply for Illinois’ version since she’d been back, but she never left the house without at least her pocket knife.

But she was also quite aware of Benton’s chivalry and never protested when he held doors or pulled out chairs or offered to walk her home. Besides, it’s not like she minded the company.

He stopped at the base of the small set of stairs that led up to her front porch. She stood on the first step, putting her a little more eye level with him.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, pulling him into a hug and kissing his cheek softly. “I had fun.”

Fraser endured, even if he felt the flush creep up his neck. Not that her attention was unwelcome or even unexpected. She always gave him, and Ray as well, hugs on a regular basis. He was just still somewhat unaccustomed to someone giving their affection so freely.

“I did as well.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love Ray,” she grinned, taking the last couple steps onto her porch, “But it’s nice to hang out with someone else for a change,” she winked.

He smirked and ducked his head, hiding his eyes under his hat brim for a moment.

“Agreed,” he smiled.

“Night Dief,” Tayla bent over and kissed the top of his head.

“Night Benton,” she said softly, unlocking her front door.

“Goodnight,” he replied, dipping his head as she let herself inside.

Diefenbaker trotted down the steps and whuffed at Fraser as he passed him, continuing down the sidewalk.

“I beg your pardon?” Fraser’s voice cracked.

Dief fell in beside him and grumbled, shaking his head.

“No, I don’t believe she shows favoritism. But in case you have failed to notice, she and I are actually the same species. Perhaps that’s skewing your judgement.”

He huffed under his breath and Fraser stopped in his tracks.

“You can’t be serious.”

Dief paused a few paces ahead of him and turned and fixed him with a look.

“She is quite affectionate with Ray as well might I remind you. And you’re _deaf_ so I don’t believe you could infer anything from her tone of voice.”

“Besides,” he continued, resuming walking and catching up to the rather aggravating wolf, “Whether or not I enjoy the… contact, is not the subject. I hardly see you turning down her affections.”

Diefenbaker growled and picked up his pace, creating distance between himself and Fraser.

“You are so hypocritical,” Fraser huffed.

 

* * *

 

Turned out Tayla loved Saint Patrick’s Day and was more than happy to be home, in Chicago, for it this year.

She insisted Fraser and Ray go with her to the parade, even going early so they could watch the annual dyeing of the river into bright green.

Ray griped about it, getting up early on a Saturday morning just to see a parade. But Fraser had seen him smile more than once already and the actual parade had yet to start. Not that there wasn’t plenty of other festivities and people and vendors and performers filling the streets as it was.

Tayla had streaks of green bobby pinned through her hair when they met up with her and was clearly enjoying the atmosphere.

“I fear Ray and I aren’t quite as festive as we ought to be,” Fraser said, plucking at his sweater.

Tayla smiled, “If it’s green it counts,” she replied, referring to color he wore, which was more forest than Irish.

Fraser nodded and walked with her to where Ray had bought them all, even Dief, some soft pretzels. Which weren’t Irish at all, but the closest food cart he could get to through the crowds.

“Don’t fill up,” Tayla warned, more to Diefenbaker than anyone else really, “The guys at the shop already have the grill going,” she grinned, referring to the get together they were having at her garage after the parade.

They found themselves a spot to camp out on the parade route, before the crowds completely descended and blocked everything.

Tayla hopped up onto a handrail to sit on and Fraser moved in beside her quickly.

“We can find somewhere much more comfortable to sit if you would rather not stand,” he offered, hovering beside her.

She glanced at him sideways and smirked, realizing he was worried about her falling.

“Relax,” she grinned, “I’ve spent a lot of years balancing on fences,” she said, referring to her career with horses. She wiggled her leg to show him where she had one foot hooked into the second rail beneath her, “I’ve got a lot of practice.”

He nodded, “Understood, just… please be cautious.” He moved to stand a little closer to her, carefully placing his arm around the side of her where he could grab her instantly if she were to lose balance.

She smiled a little softer and hooked her other foot around the back of his knee. He simply shifted to accommodate her grip, glad she was humoring him, however unfounded his concern might be. They stayed like that through the length of the parade.

Diefenbaker returned, no doubt from begging for handouts, towards the end of the procession and huffed when he saw the way they were positioned. Fraser shot him a look and mouthed _hush_ at him, embarrassed that the wolf would make any kind of comment about the situation, which was clearly just for safety purposes.

Dief huffed again and turned his back to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Ray was crossing his fingers. He should have known that would jinx it.

It had been a pretty quiet day all things considered. No major crimes or hijinks. He had taken the opportunity to catch up on a majority of the paperwork piled on his desk. The Riv was still intact. Fraser hadn’t jumped out of any windows. Yup, good day.

He only had maybe another hour left of his shift, the sun sinking low outside and he could already taste the glass of red wine he was going to pour himself when he got home.

Benny sat across his desk from him, reading a file on one of the still open cases.

That was the moment that Tayla burst through the bullpen doors.

Tayla was not one for theatrics, so Ray instantly knew his day had just been shot to hell.

“Ray!”

Fraser shot to his feet, spinning and taking hold of her elbow when she made it to Ray’s desk.

“Tayla, are you alright?”

“Shit,” she hissed, bracing herself over his desk, gulping in air. “The National. Somebody stole the bloody National!” she yelled, raising her head to look at Ray.

The color drained from his face. That car had been a present from her father when they had still been in school. It had a blown motor at the time and had been worse for wear. She had rebuilt it from the ground up with her old man.

His eyes shot to Benny who was already placing his Stetson on his head, both of them instantly determined to not go home until they found the beloved car.

“Was it at the shop last?”

She shook her head, leaning into Fraser’s warmth where he still held her arm. “Kingston Mines, me and a couple of the guys from the shop… they’re out driving around, looking for it.”

Ray nodded, already shrugging on his coat and holstering his gun.

“Diefenbaker and I will meet you there Ray,” Fraser nodded, squeezing Tayla’s arm in reassurance before quickly making his way to the door, both he and Dief in tracking mode and headed in the direction of the blues club where it had last been seen.

Tayla watched him go and turned back to Ray.

“If there’s anyone on this planet that can find it, it’s the crazy Mountie that just lit out of here,” he said, ushering her towards the parking lot and the Riviera. “C’mon…we’ll find it Tay.”

 

* * *

 

It was well after dark when Fraser used a payphone to call Ray’s cell.

“Told you,” Ray grinned, snapping his phone closed and throwing the Riviera’s weight into a u-turn in the middle of traffic. “Benny’s got it,” he smiled, looking over at Tayla who visibly deflated in the passenger seat, worry melting off her shoulders.

They pulled up a few minutes later and Tayla all but ran down the alleyway where it had been left. Its passenger side had been scraped along what must have been 100 feet of the brick wall and the two wheels on the driver’s side that had still been accessible had been stripped, the black body leaning down and resting heavy on bare brake rotors.

“Shit,” Ray hissed, watching Tayla collapse in front of the damaged car.

“I’m sorry Ray,” Fraser said quietly, walking up to him. “I felt it might be better if she were relieved to know it had been found, without knowing the extent of the damage. I feared even with your tutelage I was not qualified to fully assess the severity had she wanted details.”

“It’s alright Benny,” Ray sighed, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s mostly in once piece, trust me, she’s more than happy you found it at all.”

They both looked over at her, she was on her knees on the broken pavement, head bent and resting on the edge of the bumper. Diefenbaker sat quietly next to her, his paw placed on her thigh.

“Guess I’ll call for a wrecker,” Ray said sadly, he had hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He met Fraser’s gaze before pulling out his cell phone and walking towards the mouth of the alley, where the backup and evidence teams he had radioed for were pulling up.

Fraser made his way quietly over to where Tayla sat. Diefenbaker moved away to let Fraser take his place.

He sat next to her in silent support. Ray came over a few minutes later, crouching down beside both of them and squeezing Tayla’s shoulder.

“Hey hun, I called a wrecker for you. We’ll get this baby back home tonight. I already told the evidence crew they can examine it at the shop tomorrow.”

Tayla smiled tiredly at him, “Thanks Ray,” she breathed, knowing under normal circumstances it would be headed for a police impound lot until the investigation was done.

Someone called for Ray from down the alley. Unfortunately there was going to be plenty of paperwork and statements and overseeing the clearing of the scene before Ray would ever be able to get to that wine he had been daydreaming of hours ago. But honestly he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Tayla was more important.

“I’ll stay with her Ray,” Fraser offered. “Make sure they make it home okay,” he promised, affectionately including the wounded car in his statement.

Ray nodded his thanks at his partner and kissed Tayla on the forehead before returning to his unfortunate work.

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she asked quietly after Ray had retreated down the alley.

His eyebrows scrunched down and when he didn’t answer she glanced over at him from under her arm where she had it propped on the hood.

“Not in the least,” he answered, still trying to figure out why she would say such a thing.

“Getting all emotional over a car,” she added, dropping her head again.

He smiled softly and shifted where he sat. “Not at all Tay,” he said softly, using the nickname that Ray used on a more frequent basis than he did himself. “I still own my father’s cabin in Canada,” he offered, deciding that was probably the most similar instance in his own life to the current situation. “Or, well, what’s left of it.”

Tayla shifted, pulling herself from the front of the car and turning sideways to face him, crossing her legs underneath herself.

“It was burned down a little over a year ago,” he continued, heart seizing in his chest at the memories of everything attached to that statement.

Tayla far from knew as many details and secrets about Fraser as Ray did. But she had been around him enough, become familiar enough, that she could tell there was a whole lot more to that simple comment than he was offering. That he was masking whatever was going on inside him because he was focused on comforting her in that moment.

He took a deep breath and added to his story. “I haven’t been up there since before it even happened. Since I moved to Chicago actually. I surmise it’s more akin to vacant land at this point. But…it’s my father’s cabin, the idea of selling it has never crossed my mind,” he said simply, knowing that was nowhere near an adequate statement but that she would understand nevertheless.

Tayla smiled at him and shifted again, leaning back against the bumper and sideways into his shoulder. Diefenbaker returned and curled up next to her leg, resting his head on her thigh and they waited together until the tow truck arrived.

 

* * *

 

Tayla had shut her eyes and relaxed against the warmth of Fraser’s side, although he had no question that she was still awake. Her breathing had remained shallow and her hand still moved slowly through the ruff of Dief’s neck where he laid next to her.

To be quite honest he had become rather relaxed himself. With the obvious exception of Ray, there hadn’t been many people in his recent past that he had become comfortable letting into his personal space so easily. One in particular still sent a spike of ice down his spine if he let his thoughts settle too long. It was rather comforting to have that level of familiarity with someone, someone he felt he could trust on the same level as Ray. He was grateful that she had come into his life, come back into Ray’s, and became a friend.

He heard the distinct chattering of a diesel engine only a few moments before the first strobes of golden light began reflecting against the walls of the alley as the tow truck neared their location.

He shifted his shoulder just enough to give Tayla a signal and she eased herself upright. Fraser made his way to his feet and held out his hand to assist her in standing. By that time the truck had begun reversing its way between the buildings, headed towards the crippled Buick.

Tayla sighed heavily and Fraser squeezed her arm in comfort as the truck’s operator descended from the cab.

He took down Tayla’s information before walking around the car to determine his best course of action in retrieving it while causing as little additional damage as possible.

“Tayla,” Fraser said quietly, taking her elbow once more, guiding her a little further away. The second the driver had started unrolling the chains her muscles had started to tighten increasingly with each rattle. “C’mere,” he coaxed, pulling her once again into his side, only slightly startled when she curled into him and hid her face against the wool of his uniform. He was glad he seemed to be able to comfort her though when the driver finally started operating the hydraulic winch and he instantly understood why she had become progressively more tense from the moment the flatbed had arrived.

The sound of the car being moved was horrific. First the screech of sheet metal as it was pulled away from the rough brick wall and then the harsh grind as the bare rotors on the driver’s side, that were not meant to bear the weight of the car nor move against asphalt, were drug across the pavement and onto the metal platform of the truck.  Fraser winced himself, both from the sheer unpleasantness of the sound as well as what he knew it to mean. He wrapped his arm a little tighter around her and held her silently until the operator had finally secured the vehicle, finished his paperwork and nodded to him that he was ready to leave when they were.

He led her to the cab, opening the door and offering her his hand to help her climb inside. He followed behind her, finally calling Diefenbaker up to sit on the floorboard at his feet before shutting the door. It was a tight fit, three humans and a wolf in the cab of a tow truck, but judging by the way she continued to lean into his side, he assumed she didn’t mind.

She was shaking ever so slightly and he knew the stress of the night must have been catching up to her. He had no intention of bringing attention to it however, pretending instead, that he was oblivious and that trembling he felt was only from the truck itself.

He looked out the window at one point and was caught off guard by the punch in the gut he received when he saw the black car in the side mirror. As they passed under the street lights the car’s headlight would catch the glow and shine like an eye, only for the murky yellow to wash across the body and show the ugly damage that traveled down its side.

He was blindsided by the thought that it reminded him of Diefenbaker in a cage. He could vividly remember his companion being confined and how utterly wrong it made him feel to see a wild animal fettered in such a way. Injured and trapped and kept from everything that made him what he was.

It surprised him to draw that parallel, it wasn’t one he would have expected, but it made a sort of sense. The car was meant to be driven, the engine run, the wheels to roll down the road. And here it was, wounded, shackled down and being carried in a way that was unnatural to its state of being. He suddenly understood the pull, the connection, that both his friends shared for their vehicles. He found himself relieved Tayla had ended up in the middle of the cab, unable to see the somber sight in the mirror.

 

* * *

 

He had wondered if he should suggest Tayla wait inside the shop’s office while the car was unloaded, but her whole demeanor changed once they were on familiar ground. Where she felt safe and knew she had the tools and resources to fix what had been damaged.

She opened the garage’s roll up door so the driver could unload the Buick inside and went to work. She returned from inside with a floor jack and a set of wheel dollies to help ease the difficulty of moving the tire-less side of the car.

Once the car was in the safety of the shop and the wrecker driver had departed, Fraser could see her shoulders droop again, whatever adrenaline and will she had drawn upon to do what needed to be done had been drained.

He had taken the opportunity while the National was being unloaded to call Ray from the office’s phone. He had assured him he would see Tayla home safely and Ray said he was just about finished for the night and would meet them at her house, give Fraser a ride home.

Tayla had pulled her father’s old Power Wagon out of the shop, the military style truck would need to be her transportation for the foreseeable future. Fraser helped her lock up, ensuring everything was secure before they drove the truck back to her home.

 

* * *

 

She offered to make him coffee or tea while they waited for Ray. He gently told her that was not necessary and that she should just rest now that she was home.

He hung his hat on the coat rack in her entryway and followed her into the kitchen where she was leaning against the counter, visibly dead on her feet.

“Tayla… why don’t you sit down.”

She lifted her eyes to him and gave him a small smile. She pushed herself away from the counter and walked over to him, planting her face in the middle of his chest.

He stumbled in surprise, one foot taking a small step back for balance and his arm hovered above her shoulders before he placed it there softly.

“Thank you,” she whispered against him, he felt the words more than he heard them.

“There’s no need…” he started.

She looked up at him again and he fell silent at the intensity in her eyes.

“Thank you Benton,” she said again, voice soft and low, holding his gaze, willing him to understand the weight of her gratitude. Thanking him for his determination to find the Buick and the fact that he had. Thanking him for being at her side for the better part of the night. Thanking him for letting her collapse into his personal space over and over again, taking comfort in his solidarity.

He cleared his throat, licked his lip in a nervous tick.

“It’s really nothing,” he said softly, voice rougher than he meant it to be. “Honestly. I’m just happy I was able to find it…to be there for you,” he added finally.

She sighed and he could feel her fingers curl around a handful of red fabric near his side before she rested her weight against him again. He wrapped his arms around her a little more firmly, wordlessly telling her that it was alright to relax, that he would support her.

 

* * *

 

He had just finished giving Diefenbaker his second helping of dinner, which was nothing more than the remaining spaghetti that he had been too full to finish himself, when he heard the knock on the door.

Placing the plate in the sink he wiped his hands on his jeans and walked over, freezing in surprise when he opened it to reveal Tayla on the other side.

“Tayla…” he blinked. “Is everything alright?” he questioned, concerned.

She laughed lightly and he realized she had been smiling the entire time, so nothing too disastrous could be going on.

“Everything’s fine,” she grinned.

Diefenbaker barked behind him and he flinched, “Yes, yes of course, he’s right, please come in,” he rambled, moving out of the way to allow her to enter.

She side-stepped him awkwardly and he noticed she was holding one hand behind her back and making an effort to keep whatever it was hidden from him.

He cocked his head in confusion.

“What…”

“I need you to wait in the kitchen,” she cut him off.

He opened his mouth, unsure of how to reply.

“I… alright,” he said slowly, puzzled.

Dief trotted around behind her, spying on whatever she held and moved to stand to her side, looking up at her. Tayla giggled and put her finger to her mouth to hush the wolf, who wagged his tail before sitting down and looking at Fraser.

“Okay, alright,” he relented. Still perplexed but beginning to grin despite himself and walked back around the corner.

Tayla and Diefenbaker disappeared into the living quarters of his small apartment and he heard the opening of a cardboard box. Something plastic being placed on his dresser, something else being shifted aside.

Dief’s head appeared around the corner, glaring at him.

“I am not trying to cheat! I am merely listening to my surroundings!”

Dief growled.

Tayla scratched her fingers across Diefenbaker’s head as she came around the corner.

“Alright, I need you to close your eyes,” she grinned.

“Should I be concerned?”

She laughed again and took his hands in hers, holding them out in front of him to lead him.

“Do you trust me?” she chuckled.

He of course trusted her, more than most people if he was being honest with himself. So despite a curl of apprehension in his stomach, he closed his eyes with a dramatic sigh and let her lead him into his own bedroom.

“Stay here,” she said, placing her hand on his chest for a moment, the sudden spot of warmth coming as a surprise before she moved away from him.

He heard the snap of the light switch on the wall being turned off before the click of some other control that was foreign to him.

“Okay,” she said quietly, once again standing near him. The feeling in his gut swirled, tightened, at the hesitation and hint of worry he heard in her tone.

He opened his eyes to find his room in darkness, but not wholly without light.

The click he hadn’t been able to identify must have been a power switch on the small black globe he could see sitting on his dresser. A black globe that was riddled with small pinprick holes that let the bulb it contained shine through to throw an intricate pattern of spots of light all over his ceiling and walls.

He could make out no constellations, the lamp hadn’t been made to be scientifically accurate, but it was no less breathtaking for its fault.

“Tayla…” he breathed in awe, turning in place slowly to look into every corner of his apartment. He held out his arm and let the patterns dance across his skin.

“It was supposed to be a gag gift…” she said quietly. His eyes snapped to her to see her hands laced together tightly. “We’ve joked,” she shrugged, clearly uncomfortable in the wake of his reaction compared to the confidence she had shown when she first arrived. “Stars…” she trailed off.

Stars. It was something they shared. Their sadness that the city of Chicago obscured them so. He looked back up across the expanse of his ceiling. His ceiling that she had transformed into the sky.

She had brought him the sky. She had brought him home.

He inhaled deeply before reaching out for her, forcing her to release the way she was holding her hands. He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed softly.

“C’mere,” he whispered, tugging her gently over to his small bed. He sat down first, maneuvering over to the far side, and settling back against his bedroll that substituted for a pillow, never releasing the gentle hold he had on her hand. She hesitated and he was struck by how unsure and shy she seemed to be, so used to her confidence and composure during the day. He tugged again and she placed her knee onto his thin mattress, shifting to sit next to him before slowly leaning back, coming to rest beside him on the bedroll.

He continued to hold her hand warm in his, resting them on the mattress between them.

He heard Diefenbaker settle somewhere off to the side, a quite snuffle as he made himself comfortable.

He almost could have convinced himself he was back home, had it not been for the muffled swish of traffic down below. Muted conversations through the apartment’s thin walls. The distant warble of a siren in the city.

As they laid there in silence Fraser couldn’t help but notice the way Tayla seemed to slowly relax next to him, her breathing gentled, became deeper. His thoughts wandered, casting back over the relatively short time he had known her. She had been linked to Ray in his mind from the day he met her. Literally in the sense of their shared past, common interests. But she had grown to fill her own role in his life. Perhaps not quite as deep a friendship, he had known Ray for so much longer that it would be hard to compare the two, but no less important.

Lying in his room, mesmerized by the artificial milky way splashed across his home he realized with sudden clarity how completely at ease he was with her. The insight was bolstered by the fact that she apparently felt safe around him as well.

It dawned on him that this was the first time since Victoria that he had shared his bed with anyone, let alone a woman, although obviously in vastly different scenarios. The reminder of Victoria’s betrayal sent a shiver through his heart, a hitch in his breathing, but he found he was rather relieved that other than the sharp stab of memories, he was relaxed. Peaceful. Content to lie there in shared silence, the warmth of another person, a friend, next to him.

He let his thumb sweep back and forth against the soft skin of her hand and turned his head to face her. She tilted her gaze towards him at his movement, meeting his eyes in a silent question.

“Thank you,” he said softly, hard pressed to break the stillness of the moment, continuing to stroke her hand with his thumb.

Her smile was slight, a slow shift of the tilt of her lips. Had he not been watching her he might not have even caught it. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, calm breath and opened them again, meeting his own.

He felt something tilt in that moment, shift and change in the air around them.

Her fingers tightened just the slightest bit around his own before she turned back to return her eyes to the star covered ceiling.

It frightened him, the effort it took to turn his own gaze away from the way the lights settled on the curves of her face.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been absolutely perfect weather all week. The whole city seemed alive, everyone in good spirits with how pleasant it was. Happy to finally be able to put their winter coats into storage for the warmer months.

Fraser was enjoying being outside. He had nowhere to be and could think of no better way to spend his time than to just walk through the city. Even Diefenbaker was happy to be out. He hadn’t complained at all when Fraser had suggested a stroll after breakfast.

He was waiting at an intersection, watching for the signal to cross when all of a sudden Diefenbaker took off in the opposite direction.

“Diefenbaker?”

The wolf threaded his way between pedestrians on the sidewalk and disappeared around a corner.

“Diefenbaker!” Fraser shouted, taking off running after him.

Dief had paused halfway down the street he had turned onto and waited until Fraser turned the corner, looking straight at him before continuing on.

“Dief, what are you...” _doing_ , he started to ask. “Oh dear,” he muttered as soon as Dief once again disappeared from sight around the next building and Fraser was forced to take off running after him again.

He chased him what must have been ten city blocks before Dief skidded to a stop and watched Fraser as he came up beside him and took a moment to catch his breath.

“What on earth are you doing?” he asked, winded. “What got your tug line in a twist?”

It was at that moment that he realized they were standing in front of Tayla’s house. It was also that moment that Diefenbaker took off, again, running around the side of her home and into her backyard.

“Diefenbaker, get back here!” he hissed, he could not believe he was trespassing so unashamedly. He of course followed him, feeling horribly guilty with every step he took.

He was downright mortified when he entered her backyard in time to see Dief disappear through her open porch door and into her house.

“Have you lost all common decency?!, he hissed, poking his head through the door, reluctant to enter without permission, friend’s house or not.

The wolf grumbled something at him under his breath and climbed the stairs leading to the second story.

Fraser resigned himself to invading her home, rife with guilt and followed after him.

He felt ashamed, like he was lurking through her house, peeking into rooms trying to find his suddenly insane companion.

He stopped short when he looked into one bedroom door to see the wolf sitting on the bed, Tayla’s arms around him and her face hidden in the fur of his neck. 

“Tayla…” he gasped, snatching his Stetson off his head and circling the brim through his fingers where he held it in front of himself nervously. He could feel the heated flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. “I am so terribly sorry for his behavior. I have no idea what has gotten into him. I sincerely apologize for entering your home without permission…”

She laughed, catching him off guard and removed her arms from around Dief’s neck, one hand held out in a gesture to stop his rambling the other wiping underneath her eye, where he could now see the evidence that she had been crying.

“It’s alright,” she smiled. “He just knew I needed a hug,” she added, running her fingers through Dief’s fur while the wolf whined and licked her cheek in comfort. “You should know by now you’re both welcome in my home anytime Benton,” she said softly, looking up at him.

The flush that was continuing up his neck wasn’t entirely from embarrassment any longer.

He cleared his throat, looked down at his hat in his hands before looking back up at her.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

She sniffed, smiled, swiped at her face again. “Yeah, I’m alright, just…” she waved her hand over the bed.

He finally took the time to assess the room. It was one of the spare bedrooms in the home. The bed was made, the quilt undisturbed except for where there were boxes set upon it. Boxes that looked to contain pictures and paperwork, perhaps things of her father’s.

She picked something up off of her lap and stood, walking over to where he still hovered in the doorway and held it out towards him.

He reached out carefully, taking the gloss black frame into his fingers before finally pulling his eyes away from her to look down at the black and white photograph she was showing him.

“Is this your mother?” he whispered.

Tayla smiled and nodded, eyes rimmed in red but at least no longer crying.

“She’s beautiful.”

“I always thought she looked like Julia Roberts when she was younger,” she grinned.

Tayla sighed and leaned against one side of the doorjamb. Fraser found himself copying her, leaning back against the opposite side, photograph still in his hand.

“When she started getting real sick we had to have a hospital bed brought in,” she started quietly. “This had been my brother’s room growing up, but we turned it into hers. Hospice was in here when…” she trailed off and he unfortunately knew how that statement was meant to end.

“Me and my brother moved on,” she continued after a beat of silence. “Life doesn’t stop, as much as you might want it to. But I think it killed my dad a little more each day, having to live in the house where she died.”

He nodded in understanding, remembering the shadow of grief that descended over his father after his own mother’s death. The way the proud man had walked off into the wilderness and seemed to turn his back on life. Remembers the horrible fear he had that his father wouldn’t return that time. That he had lost both of them.

“Ray’s mentioned it,” she said quietly. “You too huh?”

His lips tugged into a smirk and nodded at her.

“Still need that hug?” he murmured.

She smiled at him and he thought he saw some color flare in her cheeks. She dropped her eyes to stare at the floor, curling her toes against the carpet before hesitantly crossing the small distance between them and folding her arms into his chest.

He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, reaching behind her to place her mother’s photo on the dresser before letting the other settle warm and heavy above the waistband of her jeans.

She inhaled deep against him, hiding her face against the flannel of his shirt and he felt the air in his lungs seize. Forced himself to breathe out steadily and squeezed her just a bit tighter.

“Thank you,” she mumbled against him after a moment, beginning to pull away from him. He pulled his arms away, reached up to rub at his eyebrow, suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands.

“You want some coffee?”

He met her eyes again and smiled softly.

“I’d love some,” he breathed. Certain now that the blush he thought he had seen earlier was not a figment of his imagination.

 

* * *

 

The coffee maker burbled away on the counter, filling the kitchen with the earthy scent of coffee. The sound reminded him of the creek not far from where his father’s cabin used to stand.

Tayla had pulled leftovers from her dinner the previous night from her fridge and diced the chicken and potatoes into pieces, placing them in a bowl and offering them to Diefenbaker as a treat.

She told him how her mother had taken one look into the backyard and fell in love with the trees, convincing her father to buy the home, the interior sight unseen. She had loved birds and growing up they had had a large cage on their back porch, filled with finches that would fill the day with chirps and twitters. How just this past year her brother, although living overseas, had bought the house from their father, keeping it in the family and removing the worry of a mortgage payment from the older man.

She was smiling softly to herself as she handed him a cup of steaming coffee.

He felt privileged. Warmth blossoming in his chest, that she was letting him into her memories. Offering up pieces of herself. He was glad to build a happy picture of her family in his mind. A mother like Ray’s, a bit overprotective perhaps, but loving all the same. A quiet but steady father and an older brother who seemed to be equal parts harasser and best friend from the stories he had heard.

They stood in companionable silence, sipping their dark coffee. Dief licked his chops crudely, satisfied with his snack and wandered out into her backyard, flopping down in a sunny spot.

Fraser smirked, watching him from where he stood by the window. Tayla moved in beside him quietly, bare feet nearly silent on the tiled floor. He shifted, giving her the room to stand by the window next to him.

The soft clunk of her setting her mug onto the windowsill brought his gaze to her from where he had been watching Diefenbaker roll in the grass.

She was staring at her hand where it was wrapped around the warmth of the mug, the slight downward tilt of her head preventing him from being able to see her eyes.

She never looked up at him, just slowly drifted more into his space. She lifted one hand and placed it softly against his chest, eyes locked on where her fingers interwove with the plaid of his shirt.

The cool, crisp spring air he had relished all morning felt heavy and warm in his lungs. He breathed in a little deeper.

She curled her arms up against him and leaned into his body. He shifted his stance enough to let her settle against him more easily, his free arm wrapping around her as his other moved to place his own coffee mug down next to hers.

“This okay?” she murmured. He could feel the tremor when she inhaled shakily.

“Quite alright,” he mumbled back, washed in warmth, muscles feeling heavy with languor as he placed his arms around her.

They stood in silence for several minutes before he felt her quiet _thank you_ shiver through his bones from where she whispered it into his chest.

“Any time,” he offered, resting his chin upon the crown of her head and sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Fraser hung up the phone and sighed. This was not turning out to be his best day.

The RCMP had packed up what bits and pieces had been salvaged from the remains of his father’s cabin and shipped them to the Consulate.

His father had been aggravating him all morning about opening them. Curious as a cat about what might have been recovered. He’d been waving his hands through the boxes the entire time he had been on the phone with Ray, as if he could will his form enough physicality to open them.

“Stop that.”

“Well then open them.”

“I already told you, I’m not opening them here. We’ll deal with it at home.”

“I fail to see what the big deal is. It’s just stuff.”

Fraser sighed again and rubbed his forehead.

It had actually been Ray’s cell phone that the Consulate had called to inform him that the boxes had arrived earlier that day. Ray, being one of the few people who knew just how convoluted the story surrounding the cabin and the fire and as a result the boxes, actually was, had graciously offered to help him move them from the Consulate to his apartment. He was supposed to come by after his shift today with the Riviera.

That had been the call he had just received. Ray apologetic on the other end of the line. They had made an arrest towards the end of his shift and there would be no getting out on time.

Fraser of course understood, he held no ill will towards Ray. But that meant he would have to find another course of action to move the boxes.

He supposed he could just take one at a time, leave the rest in the office. Spread it out over the week, or perhaps move the rest later should Ray become available.

He picked one of the smaller ones up, testing its weight in his hands. It wasn’t too heavy. It might not be pleasant, but he was certain he could carry it to his apartment. He shifted his grip and headed towards the door.

“You can’t seriously be considering carrying these all to the apartment?” his father, oh so helpfully chimed in.

“Indeed I do. Why don’t you make yourself useful and grab one and assist me,” he growled, leaving his office and shutting the door in his face.

He hesitated outside his door. Glancing around the hallway and when his father didn’t appear anywhere he nodded to himself and headed to the front door.

He stopped short on the Consulate steps, turning from where he had shut the door behind himself to see Tayla, her Power Wagon parked by the curb, leaning against her truck and smiling at him.

“Ray called in the reinforcements,” she grinned.

“Tayla…I…uh…”

She laughed. “He felt bad he couldn’t make it. Besides, I dunno why neither of you bothered to ask me anyways, since I’m the one with the pickup.”

“I couldn’t impose,” he started. “It’s quite alright, I can manage.”

She arched her eyebrow at him and walked up the steps to where he was still standing, forcibly removing the box from his hands.

“Listen, you took an oath when you joined the RCMP to uphold the law and be honorable and polite and shit right?”

He nodded, still staring at her nervously.

“Well, when someone owns a truck, they take an oath to help their friends move. Now come on, go get the rest,” she grinned, headed back down the steps to place the box in the bed of the truck.

He nodded, not that she was watching and turned to go back inside. He also almost walked smack into his father right inside the door.

“I like her. She’s bossy.”

“Can you not?” he hissed.

Turnbull looked up at him from the receptionist’s desk.

“I can certainly not. What am I not doing, sir?”

Fraser’s eye twitched.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t think I can thank you enough for your help Tayla,” he said quietly, rolling up the sleeves on his khaki uniform shirt.

She gave him a chastising look, which wasn’t very effective as she happened to be smiling as well, from where she was sitting on the floor next to his bed, 100 pounds of white wolf squirming in her lap.

“If you try to thank me one more time I’m gonna sick Dief on you.”

Diefenbaker instantly rolled off her lap and onto the floor, staring at Fraser.

Fraser blinked. Equal parts surprised and at the same time not.

“Et tu, Diefenbaker?”

The wolf growled.

“It’s settled, I’m shipping you back to the Territories.”

Tayla kissed the top of Dief’s head, eyes locked on Fraser.

“Be nice to Benton, I kinda like having him around,” she mock-whispered to the wolf.

Fraser cleared his throat and rubbed at his eyebrow, turning to rearrange the boxes they had just finished bringing up the stairs.

“Seriously Benton,” she groaned, pushing herself up from the floor.

He expected her to continue, and when there was only silence, he looked over at where she was standing watching him.

She smiled softly and moved to walk towards him, “If there’s anybody that knows what it’s like to have to go through their parents’ things, it’s me,” she said quietly, continuing past him, letting her hand brush across his shoulders as she went.

He was so very grateful that her back was to him at that point because he wasn’t entirely sure he had been able to suppress his shiver at her touch.

He heard a mumble from Diefenbaker and shot him a glare.

Definitely hadn’t been able to conceal it then.

Dief panted loudly, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Arrogant animal was laughing at him.

“Good lord boy,” he heard called from the kitchen. “You really need to go grocery shopping.”

Diefenbaker shot past him and into the kitchen at the prospect of food.

“Let’s see what we can throw together for dinner, huh Dief?” he heard her murmur to him.

He placed his hands on one of the boxes and hung his head, taking a deep breath. Amazed at how the day had changed. From a shipment of painful reminders of the past, to his wolf and his friend currently bickering in his kitchen and making dinner.

He bit back his instinctual desire to tell Tayla to not trouble herself, that she had already done more than enough for him. He found himself smiling instead. Knowing that despite how much he might implore her not to, she would continue on, making herself at home within his life.

 

* * *

 

They were at a combination car show and food festival. Tayla had finally gotten her Grand National back from its final trip to the body shop just that week and had insisted they all had to go so she could show it off to the world. Ray brought the Riviera, parked it next to the National and a couple of the other guys from the shop that brought their own cars. Fraser and Tayla had wandered off towards where all the food vendors were set up.

There were local restaurants, offering samples of their menus mixed in with barbeque trailers hooked to trucks and tents with chefs that seemed to be competing for who could come up with the most unexpected food.

Fraser tried, he really did, but it was hard to keep the smile from his face as Tayla drifted from vendor to vendor, eager to taste a little bit of everything. She had even bought a strip of raffle style tickets that meant she was allowed to taste different wines that some of the shops had available.

They made their way through the layout once, trying things that caught their eye. Or well, Tayla tried things that caught her eye and more often than not, shoved some towards Fraser for a taste. Not that he had any desire to complain, the vast majority was quite delicious and he always enjoyed trying new things. The company only made it better, not that he would comment as such.

By the time they made their first pass through the streets, all those samples had already started to settle in their stomachs and they turned and slowly meandered their way back towards the beginning, where the car show was in full swing. Stopping less often to try one or two things they skipped on the first lap, or getting seconds on the things they had particularly enjoyed the first time around.

Tayla’s favorite of the whole show had been a fancy concoction of what the restaurant called duck bacon with a Grand Mariner sweet sauce for dipping. Fraser agreed with her, it was certainly one of the best things they had tried, and waited in line for her to get a second helping of it during their return trip.

She had walked over towards the edge of the park and hopped up onto a metal railing, a habit which still worried him and he swore she did on purpose whenever he was around. He shook his head at her as he finally returned with the cardboard container of food and she grinned, not apologetic in the least.

He shifted in closer to her, as he normally did whenever she insisted on sitting on a fence, ensuring she was in reach should she tumble.

She hooked her foot around his leg and stole his Stetson, placing it on her own head to shield her eyes from the sun before she picked a piece of meat from the plate he held between them, dipping it into the sauce before taking a bite.

Fraser glanced down the road, searching for a flash of white. Diefenbaker was going to get sick with as much food as he was begging off of people.

He turned back to look at Tayla and jerked when he realized she was holding a piece of the duck right in front of his face.

“Hurry up, before the sauce drips off!” she laughed, lifting her other hand in a cup underneath it as the sticky syrup started to ooze into a slow drop.

Fraser acted on instinct, he really did, opening his mouth and licking towards the syrup before wrapping his lips around the bacon. The bacon that was still held in her fingers.

They both froze. Fraser would have sworn it was for at least a minute. Maybe five.

Rationally he knew it was only a couple seconds at best. But once again everything had shifted around them.

His tongue wrapped around her fingers, swirled the sugar off her skin. The hell with what he knew would have been the appropriate, respectful, reaction to the situation, he took his time finally pulling away from the sweet taste.

There was a subtle tilt to her lips, like she hadn’t decided if she wanted to smile or not and she sucked her fingers into her own mouth as if there had been anything left to lick off.

He felt like he was burning up. Shuffled a step closer to her when he felt her apply pressure where her foot was still hooked around his leg.

It was bizarre, leaning into where his own Stetson was worn by someone else but the strange backwards feeling was forgotten when she softly placed her lips against his, her hand coming up around his neck, fingers carding through the short hair at the base of his skull. The same fingers that had been in his mouth.

He breathed against her and shifted closer still, his hand holding the food held out to the side while the other rested softly against the swell of her thigh.

It felt like the world around them quieted, like he was on a serene mountainside back home and he allowed himself to enjoy her attention. It had been so long. So many feelings attached to a display of affection like this, not all of them positive, but he felt safe with her in that moment. Felt cradled between the warmth of her leg and the soothing scrape of her fingernails against his scalp.

She tasted like salt and sugar, the crispness of the orange sauce they had shared.

“Jesus Benton,” she whispered against him.

Everything came crashing back around him and he found he was rather disappointed that it did, but he pulled back just enough to put some space between them, although not enough to remove himself from where he stood bracketed between her hips.

“We shouldn’t…”

There was a soft wounded inhale.

“You’re…you’re Ray’s friend. Ray’s _my_ friend. He grew up with you,” he stammered, voice reflecting the tremor of his muscles, eyes fixed on where his hand still sat upon the denim of her jeans.

He forced himself to tear his eyes away, finally looking up at her. Her pupils were blown wide, hidden in the shadow of his hat’s brim.

“I just…I can’t honestly say I feel I can…continue,” he hesitated, voice rough over the word, “Without at least…ensuring he is comfortable with it.”

She started to smile then and her fingers resumed their slow curl through his hair, which did not help him at all with his current lack of ability to concentrate.

“Not that I think you require anyone’s permission,” he rushed to add, shaking his head and dropping his eyes, clearing his throat. “I don’t in any way think you’re _owned_ or that a woman needs the approval of a man…”

“Benton,” she said softly, stopping him in his tracks.

“It’s okay, I get it. And no, I don’t need his permission. But he’s your best friend, and yeah, I’ve known him since I was a kid. It’s okay, you should probably talk to him. If…if you want to talk to him…” she finished slowly and he could hear the nervous question in her voice.

He nodded slowly.

“I do,” he said quietly.

She grinned again and dropped her head, hiding behind his hat in a way that was an achingly familiar gesture. He was smiling back at her when she finally met his eyes again.

Finally he cleared his throat and finished pulling away from the warmth of her body.

“We should probably head back,” he started, just in time for Diefenbaker to reappear, he really did have the worst timing, and jumped, knocking the forgotten food from Fraser’s hand and inhaling it from where it tumbled to the ground.

“I’m going to stop taking you anywhere. You have absolutely no manners whatsoever,” Fraser scolded, picking up the wolf’s trash and tossing it into a nearby trash can.

“That was the best thing here wasn’t it?” Tayla grinned. Diefenbaker barked in agreement and started trotting off towards the cars.

“Would you like to take him home? I think he rather prefers you to me,” Fraser said turning to look at her, his breath freezing in his lungs at the grin she was watching him with.

“C’mon Benton,” she said warmly, linking her arm through his and steering them to follow the shock of white fur that was weaving through the crowd further ahead.


	5. Chapter 5

Fraser purposely waited until he could bring it up to Ray until they were driving back to the station after an uneventful outing for information. He didn’t want to potentially upset Ray _before_ they went to question a witness, but he also didn’t want to broach the subject had said witness upset Ray to begin with. It was a delicate situation.

“Hypothetically speaking…” he started, after several minutes of berating himself to just open his mouth.

“That’s never good.”

“It can neither be good or bad if it’s merely hypothetical Ray.”

“Nothing with you is ever hypothetical Benny.”

“I beg to differ…”

“’Hypothetically speaking what happens if I jump out this window’…too late, already did…’hypothetically speaking what will happen if I chase after this speeding car’…oops, my bad, already jumped onto it,” Ray ranted, waving his hands so much Fraser was tempted to grab the steering wheel.

“I have never used either of those statements.”

“Not the point.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what the point is Ray.”

“Hypothetically speaking…”

“Hypothetically speaking about points?”

“No! You were hypothetically-ing me! Hypothetically-ing me about what?”

“Oh. Right. Uh…”

“Benny!”

“Hypothetically…if I…” he reached up to swipe at his eyebrow. Ray’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, Benny and nervous ticks never ended well.

“If I felt…that I might be…developing…feelings…”

Ray slowly turned to give him a wild look.

“You mean you’re not a tin Mountie? That you’re a real boy? With _feelings_?” He reached over and started poking Fraser in the chest. “You’re right! You’re real!”

“ _Ray.”_

He chuckled and made a highly illegal lane change.

“Sorry Benny, just picking at you. Feelings for what…or for who?” he teased.

“Uh, umm…for someone you know. Someone you care about.”

“Please god, tell me Frannie hasn’t brainwashed you somehow.”

“No, is that a talent I should be concerned about?”

“Who knows with her,” Ray muttered, looking in his mirror before making a turn.

Fraser looked out the windshield, momentarily frightened by the prospect of Francesca being able to trick people into doing her bidding.

“So if it’s not Frannie…” Ray said slowly.

“Right. Uh…” Fraser sighed deeply. “I believe I may be developing feelings for Tayla,” he said quietly.

Diefenbaker barked right into his ear.

“Excuse you! No one asked for your opinion.”

That was also the moment he realized Ray had stopped the car. Dead. In the middle of the street.

“Ray?”

“You _believe_ you’ve developed feelings for Tayla? As in like, ‘she’s cool, I like hanging out with her’ feelings? Cus if that’s so than you’re slow on the uptake…”

“Ray…”

“Or is it more like, ‘she’s cool, I think I might like her like a boy likes a girl even though I have no idea what I’m doing with girls’ type of feelings?”

“Ray...”

“Because lord knows you don’t have the best track record there, although I’ll be the first to stand up for you and say that that’s hardly your own fault…”

“RAY!”

“What?!”

“You’re blocking traffic!”

“What? Oh! Right!” he said, jerking the steering wheel and pulling the Riviera over to the side, the car jostling when the front wheel climbed the curb. A move that had Fraser grabbing the door handle and bracing himself before looking over at Ray a bit concerned, worried about the fact he was so worked up he had treated the Buick so roughly.

“So?”

“So…uh…” Fraser stalled, tugged at his uniform’s collar. “The latter.”

Ray nodded, fingers twisting over the steering wheel and looked out the window.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” he muttered.

“If it makes you uncomfortable in any way, I won’t explore it Ray,” he said quietly. “I told her I wouldn’t feel right without your approval.”

Ray laughed, startling him. “You told her you wanted my _approval?!_ And she didn’t punch you in your polite Canadian face?!”

“Well…no,” Fraser said slowly. He really was lost in this conversation. Unsure of Ray’s reactions. “She seemed to understand that because you and I are friends, and because of your longer friendship with her that I felt uncomfortable…”

“Oh Jesus,” Ray sighed, tilting his head back onto the seat’s headrest. “Just shut up Benny.”

“Understood,” he replied automatically, shifting to face straight ahead again.

“You talked to her?” Ray said much more calmly after a beat of silence.

“Well…yes. We uh…”

Ray’s eyebrow arched and he lifted his head to look at his partner.

“We may have kissed…at the food festival,” Fraser mumbled, reaching up to tug at his ear.

“Holy shit,” Ray hissed.

And then he busted out laughing.

“Oh geez, this is…this is…oh my god.”

“Forgive me Ray, but I’m afraid I’m rather lost in regards to your feelings on the subject.”

“Oh Benny,” he grinned, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. “Just relax, it’s really weird. I mean _really_ weird, like, weird in ways you don’t even _know._ But I know Tayla. And I know you.”

“And I know your history,” he added softly after a beat, squeezing Fraser’s shoulder again. “She ain’t gonna hurt you. Never would. And there’s not much that can stop Tayla once she puts her mind to something, so if she’s set her sights on you, whether I approve or not is not going to stop her.”

“That I don’t doubt,” Fraser smirked, remembering a million different ways Tayla had just taken control of both he and Ray and made decisions on what they were going to do. “However, you are my friend, and should it make you uncomfortable…”

“Benny just stop,” Ray said warmly, smiling at him. “It’s weird. I’ll admit that. But it’s alright…really.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah Benny, I’m sure. You’re kinda the best guy I know. It’s alright.”

Fraser flushed, ducking his head to scratch his eyebrow, again.

Ray chuckled and squeezed his shoulder once more before returning his focus to the Riviera’s mirror so he could reenter traffic.

“Just…try not to be…all in my face with it,” he said, waving his hand. “That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

“Understood Ray,” he grinned.

 

* * *

 

“Ray? We appear to be at Tayla’s house.”

“Oh, look at that, we are.”

“Did we have plans with her?”

“Nope.”

“Is there a reason we’re here then?”

“Yup,” Ray said, twisting around in his seat and digging into a bag on the back floorboard.

Unceremoniously he shoved a plastic wrapped box into Fraser’s chest.

Fraser blinked, looking down at the object.

“Chocolates?”

“Yup.”

Fraser blinked at him.

“Tayla’s not a flower kinda girl, trust me, she’ll like chocolate better.”

“Good to know,” he said slowly.

“Great. Now get out.”

“Pardon?”

“Get out.”

“But…”

“Get. Out. Go. Hang out,” he said, shooing him out of the car.

Fraser stumbled out of the Riviera, righting his jacket as he stood and hesitated on the curb, shuffling his feet.

“I’ll take Dief home,” Ray offered through the downed window, the wolf now occupying the front seat Fraser had vacated and watching Fraser with a look of glee on his face.

“Ray…”

“Just stop thinking Benny. Just go hang out.”

He cleared his throat, tugged at his collar, nodded to himself more than to Ray.

“Right you are,” he mumbled, making his way to her front door. He had no idea what he was doing.

He lifted his hand to press the doorbell. Hesitated, dropped it back to his side. Made another abortive attempt. Finally turned to look at Ray again.

Ray laid into the Buick’s horn, Fraser’s eyes going wide in horror.

It had the intended effect though, as a moment later Tayla opened the door.

“Benton?”

“Uh, hello…Tayla. Uh…good evening,” he stuttered.

He was cut off by the squeal of tires as Ray peeled out on the asphalt behind him and Fraser froze in mortification. Tayla leaned out the door and watched the Riviera disappear down the street.

Her eyes slowly slid back to him. Then looked down where he was still clutching the chocolate box Ray had handed him. Finally she looked back up at him.

“He left you here didn’t he?”

Fraser nodded.

“Lemme guess, you had no idea he was bringing you here and then he handed you those and kicked you out of the car.”

“That would be rather accurate,” he swallowed.

The inspecting gaze she had shown since she opened her door to the bizarre scene unfolding on her doorstep thawed and she smirked at him.

“He’s such an asshole,” she muttered, taking a step onto her porch and leaning in to kiss him on his cheek, just shy of his lips.

“Come inside,” she said softly. Fraser could feel his ears burning but nodded and followed her, feeling as if he was swallowed by warmth as soon as he was though her door.

He shed his jacket in her entry way, heading to where she had disappeared into her kitchen.

“Ironically, I was making hot chocolate,” she grinned, side-eyeing him.

“Ah yes, Ray…uh, he…” he stumbled, holding the box of chocolates in his hands.

“Why don’t you bust it open,” she grinned, stirring the small pot she had with warm cream and melting chocolate. “Might as well overdose,” she winked.

He nodded, pulling out his pocket knife to slit open the plastic cover. He removed the lid and simply laid the open box on her counter.

She moved over to him silently, always barefooted when at home, and picked up a piece, popping it in her mouth.

“At least the idiot got dark chocolate, not a big fan of milk.”

“It can be rather sweet,” he smiled, starting to relax.

She grinned and picked another piece, holding it up towards his mouth.

He froze. Then mentally kicked himself before he hesitantly moved to take it from her fingers. Taking care not to repeat the performance from the food festival just a week before.

She leaned in slow, giving him time to react should he choose to and kissed him softly on the lips.

She pulled away just a moment later and returned to the hot chocolate on the stove.

“He talked to me you know.”

“Ray?”

She nodded. “Said you talked to him. And then proceeded to give me the ‘you hurt him and I’ll kill you’ speech. Although, without the killing, cus he’s not brave enough for that.”

Fraser blinked at her, unsure of what part of that statement to address first.

“I did speak with him,” he said quietly. “He was rather understanding.”

She grinned again, rather reflexively, like she was having a hard time keeping a smile from her face and he watched heat crawl up her cheeks as she fidgeted with mugs and spoons.

He felt marginally better that he wasn’t the only one absurdly nervous at the moment.

“He gave you a speech?”

She laughed then. “Yeah,” she said simply, not offering him any explanation, just handing him a warm mug of rich chocolate. She hopped up onto her kitchen counter and took a sip from her own steaming mug.

He leaned against her kitchen table, not far from her and cradled his mug in his hands.

“He cares about you,” she said quietly, causing him to look up at her.

“He cares about you as well.”

She smiled softly, swirled her mug in her hand.

“He didn’t give me any details, I doubt he’d ever betray your trust like that, but enough to know you’ve been hurt,” she paused. “He’s rather protective of you.”

He nodded, hung his head, sad smile at his friend’s concern.

“You’re not the only one trying to heal. I get it.”

He looked up at her again and smiled in understanding.

She blushed again and he took a sip of his hot chocolate now that it had cooled a bit, giving her a moment without the weight of his gaze.

“This…this tastes like…”

“Molasses?” she smiled.

He grinned and nodded.

“I’m weird,” she shrugged and he laughed.

Her mug thumped where she placed it on the counter next to her and she held out her hand towards him.

“C’mere,” she said quietly.

He held her eyes for a moment before pushing off of the table and taking the few steps over to her, letting her take his free hand while he put his own mug down next to hers.

“We’re friends right?”

“Of course,” he answered instantly, giving her his full attention.

“Then how ‘bout we stop acting like we have no idea how to act around each other?” she grinned.

He chuckled and dropped his head.

“This is…” he hesitated.

“I know,” she mumbled, “I’m scared too.”

He looked back up at her, holding her gaze. “Terrified,” he whispered.

She reached up and looped her arms around his neck, letting her fingers card through his hair. He allowed himself to appreciate the comfort of her touch and placed his hands on the counter on either side of her, leaning into her warmth.

“Listen,” she said quietly, “We’re both freaked out. But I trust you. I know you’re not some asshole just trying to get laid.”

He smirked.

“And I hope you know me well enough to know I would never purposely hurt you,” she whispered.

“I do,” he smiled softly.

“I’m not asking you to tell me Benton,” she added after a moment, fingers still curled in his hair. “I don’t want you to tell me. Not unless you choose to. It’s none of my business.”

“If we do this, it is,” he cut her off.

She smiled at him but shook her head. “Naw, not unless you want it to be. It’s okay. I don’t want anything you can’t give. Just…honesty. And if I do hurt you, tell me, so I can fix it.”

He sighed, shifted his feet and lifted his hands from the cool of the counter to reach up to cup her shoulder blades.

“You have my word,” he whispered, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. “Only if you’ll do the same.”

“’Course,” she grinned.

“This…” he started, swallowed against the lump in his throat.

This was all uncharted territory for him. His relationship with Victoria had hardly been conventional, from tragic beginning to disastrous end.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much experience…with this. My track record is less than commendable.”

She chuckled, soft in her throat, a noise that made her sound more feminine than he was used to, and she ducked her head to nuzzle under the curve of his jaw, which had him closing his eyes and taking a deep breath at the simplistic show of affection.

“It’s okay,” she whispered against his skin. “I don’t have the best track record either. It doesn’t matter. I just know what I feel when I’m with you.”

He trembled at her admission and he let himself tuck his face into her neck. At this point they weren’t stopping. They were going to try together. He decided he might as well begin forcing himself past his nerves to become comfortable with her touch and with touching her in return.

She shifted against him, folding one arm up against his chest, curling up within his embrace, one foot wrapping around the back of his thigh.

“I was engaged…in Florida,” she whispered, after several minutes of silence.

He held himself still. Half wondering if she had even spoken.

Finally he tilted his head just enough to catch her eye.

She glanced up at him before looking away again.

“I had been with him a couple years. Everything was perfect. From the very beginning,” she sighed.

“We never fought. Everything was just easy. We _worked_. He was my best friend.”

He was torn. He wanted to keep holding her, offering what support he could. But he also wanted to pull back enough to meet her eyes. Give her the attention he felt the admission deserved.

Thankfully she saved him from having to decide, pulling back from him just enough to sit upright.

“It was stupid. Fairytale shit. Everybody was jealous. And then…” she sighed. “He got a new job. I was less than thrilled with his coworkers. But they were his new best friends. And I went from being the person he felt closest to, to being the nagging girlfriend that was telling him who not to be friends with. And I really wasn’t, it’s not like I gave him ultimatums or anything, I just told him my concerns. But he had already pulled away. Just…disappeared on me,” she whispered, and he could hear the tremor in her voice, the echo of pain. “Didn’t even have the balls to break up with me to my face, literally just disappeared, cut off contact. I lost myself for a long time,” she finished quietly.

He knew she hadn’t told him so that he would share his own story. He knew she had fully meant that she didn’t want him to tell her unless he decided to. But the fact she had trusted him with the story, the difficulty of telling it still evident on her face, gave him the courage to share his own.

“I arrested this woman,” he said quietly. “Well…I tracked her, through a blizzard. We were snowed in and spent a day and a night and another day, huddled in a lean to. I thought I would lose her. I thought we’d both die. But we made it.”

He hesitated, took a deep breath. Gratified that she allowed him the silence.

“She asked me to let her go…and I didn’t,” he said, voice cracking over the admission.

“The reason Ray’s so protective is…she came back. To Chicago. I threw away all caution, convinced myself it was my second chance. But…”

This was just as hard as he had imagined it would be. But regardless of her statement that she needn’t know, he felt she deserved this. He wanted to try to build something with her. He needed to be completely open with her. For himself if not for her.

“She had been manipulating me from the start. Before she even arrived,” he sighed. “Set me up. Set _Ray_ up. And the whole time…” he inhaled, lungs trembling. “The whole time I couldn’t give up. I loved her,” he smiled sadly, shrugging one shoulder. “Even after everything…I let her go again. Almost went with her…would have. Would have given up everything. Destroyed everything,” he mumbled.

“But Ray…” he sighed again. “Ray thought she had a gun, he fired at her. And hit me,” he finished after a pause. Watching the shock register on her face.

“I don’t blame him. Never have,” he said quietly, looking down to discover she had threaded her fingers with his own, steady stroke of her thumb against his palm. “Was probably for the best really...but…”

“But you still wonder,” she finished for him.

He looked up at her, guilt heavy on his shoulders.

“I get it,” she whispered. “Ryan left me in the most cowardly way possible. Turned into someone I didn’t recognize. Was the complete opposite of the person I had known. But I still wonder…wonder what would have happened, what could have happened, had we remained as strong as we were. Had nothing gone wrong.”

He nodded.

“It’s okay Benton,” she smiled softly. “There’s always a piece of you that’s going to belong to them. A piece of you no one else can touch. And that’s okay. It’s not a bad thing. It doesn’t mean you can’t love again. Doesn’t mean that love can’t be just as strong, or stronger. It’s just a piece of your life that they touched, changed, for better or worse…or both. A piece of who you are.”

He held her eyes the entire time, letting her words settle within him. She was right. And he could feel the weight lifting off his spirit, knowing that she understood what he felt, what he meant, without even being able to put voice to it.

He was so tired of being alone. He did want to try again. He wanted to try with her. But he had also been scarred by his past. Was still very much anxious of everything that could go wrong, of feeling that level of pain again. But he felt bolstered, knowing she held the same fears he did. But the same hopes as well.

“Funny,” she started, “Our stories are so different…”

“And yet quite similar,” he finished for her, smiling as she met his eyes.

“Yeah,” she sighed.

The trappings were different. Her fairytale relationship turned into a nightmare. His was a nightmare that he had tried desperately to turn into a fairytale. But they had both loved whole-heartedly and been betrayed by the person they had given themselves to. Lost themselves within.

He smiled, shifting closer to her and reached up to slot his fingers into her hair, pulling her into a kiss.

She gasped, a quiet, startled sound right before his lips met hers and he smiled against her. Soft, brief press of lips before he pulled back to meet her eyes, smile breaking out over his face.

She grinned back, flushed, unable to help herself and he felt something unfurl in his chest, swoop low in his gut.

They were both scared.

But they’d figure this out.


	6. Chapter 6

Technically it was the first snowfall of the season. It was just a light dusting however, not enough to stick. And for someone from the wilds of Canada it hardly qualified as anything, let alone snow.

It did proceed to turn everything into a muddy slush, and there was a chill bite to the air that burned in his lungs.

Fraser was currently making his way through a section of town that Ray would refer to as a slum. So when Diefenbaker abruptly changed course and detoured down a litter strewn alley he was a bit concerned.

He turned the corner himself and watched Dief pawing at what looked like a pile of garbage.

Of course it hadn’t been a crime or someone in need, it was only the wolf’s apparently bottomless stomach.

“Diefenbaker! Really? I’m quite sure Ray has a donut waiting for you at the station. You are not so abused that you have to resort to garbage.”

But Diefenbaker refused to leave the alley. Rooting around in whatever it was before lying down and all but glaring at Fraser.

Fraser’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion and he walked towards where Dief was lying.

“What is it?” he asked, gently moving what looked to be old ratty clothes and maybe some stuffing from a pillow to the side with his boot. He didn’t see anything though. Until Dief leaned forward and licked a certain lump. A lump that moved.

It was a puppy. A cold, absolutely filthy puppy that had curled itself up in the worn fabric in a desperate attempt to keep warm.

Its fur was matted with mud and who knows what else, the small thing shivering in fear as Fraser gently picked it up.

“It’s okay little one,” he cooed, giving it a quick look over for injuries. Apart from being underweight and in desperate need of a bath and warm blanket the little girl seemed to be alright.

Diefenbaker jumped up, placing his paw on Fraser’s hip and licked at the squirming ball of fur and dirt again.

“Yeah, let’s go get her cleaned up and fed,” he said, tucking the bundle inside his peacoat where she could benefit from the warmth of his body.

Diefenbaker wagged his tail and led the way back down the alley.

 

* * *

 

As he turned the corner into the bullpen Ray was in the process of standing up from his desk. He stopped short when he saw Fraser coming towards him.

Fraser slowed his step at the wide eyed look Ray was watching him with.

“Uh, Benny…you doing drag again?”

He stopped dead in his tracks in confusion.

“No…” he said slowly. “Why would you think that?”

Ray gestured towards his chest with a stack of file folders he was holding. And jerked when whatever was inside Fraser’s jacket moved.

“Oh! Right!” he realized, looking down at the lopsided lump in his jacket. He unbuttoned his jacket as Ray moved closer, the puppy squirming against his chest.

“It’s Diefenbaker’s puppy.”

“Oh lord, Dief didn’t reproduce again did he?” Ray groaned, leaning in to see the bundle.

Diefenbaker growled and Ray rolled his eyes at him.

“Well no…but he found her.”

“She is kinda cute,” Ray grinned, letting the little girl lick his fingers.

“I was wondering if you would be so kind as to give me a ride home. I’d like to get her cleaned up and warm and fed. Who knows how long she had been outside.”

“Yeah, sure. Lemme just go file these,” he said waving the folders.

 

* * *

 

Fraser washed the puppy in his kitchen sink. Diefenbaker was ever watchful, sitting at his feet and putting his paws up onto the counter whenever the little girl whined.

As the mud swirled down the drain Fraser was glad to see she wasn’t quite as dirty as he had originally believed, it was actually her coloring. A steel grey splotched with black and rust red Doberman like markings.

After a quick towel dry he placed her on the floor where Diefenbaker took over and licked her until she was cleaned to his standards.

He mixed up a quick bowl of cereal and milk, just enough to make it mushy and offered it to her which she all but inhaled. It wasn’t the healthiest meal for a puppy, but it would have to do for now.

“You gonna keep her?” Ray asked, watching the pup chasing after the bowl as it moved a little more each time she licked it.

“Ah...no,” he replied, shuffling his feet and reaching up to scratch at his eyebrow. “I was actually thinking of taking her to Tayla’s.”

“You’re gonna give Tayla a puppy?” Ray asked, wide grin on his face.

“Well I know she had a dog that passed away while she lived in Florida. Do you think it would upset her?”

Ray chuckled and shook his head.

“Naw, she’ll love it. Tay’s never been able to say no to an animal.”

 

* * *

 

He planned on hiding the puppy inside his jacket and surprising Tayla with it. But the little girl was squirming wildly against his chest and he had just unbuttoned his jacket and reached in to stop her when Tayla opened her front door.

“Hey what…” she paused as Fraser froze, puppy in hand, half out of his coat.

“What the hell is that?”

Fraser just blinked and held it out to her, the little dog’s tail wagging and slapping against his wrist from where she dangled from his hands.

“I found her.”

“Uh…okay…” Tayla said slowly, reaching out to take the little bundle, pulling her to her chest. “Get in here, it’s freezing.”

Fraser removed his coat and wiped the snow from his boots, watching as Tayla scratched behind the puppy’s ears.

“Actually Diefenbaker found her,” he offered, following her into her living room where she set the puppy on the floor and it immediately took off sniffing everything it could reach.

“She’s adorable.”

“I thought maybe…” he cleared his throat, sitting down on her couch.

“Are you giving me a puppy?” Tayla grinned, adding another log to her fireplace before taking a seat next to him.

“If you want her.”

“Who doesn’t want a puppy,” she smiled.

Diefenbaker was following right on the little fluffball’s heels, steering her away from getting into anything she shouldn’t.

They laughed and watched as she explored her new home.

“Thanks,” Tayla whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. He was still caught off guard for a moment, but was heartened by how quickly his panic resided, and responded to her kiss.

Tayla shifted to lean against his chest, turned enough so she could still watch her new baby and Fraser allowed himself to relax into her couch, arm coming down to hold her gently against him. He sighed, it was a comfort he was still getting used to. Being close to someone, being close to her.

He let himself be soothed by the quiet crackle and pop of the fireplace, the warmth of her body against his. The feel of her breathing in his arms. They watched as the two dogs continued their exploration.

The puppy finally exhausted her energy and crawled over to where Diefenbaker had laid down to watch over her and curled up next to him. Dief just snuffled her as she settled against him and then laid his own head down and fell asleep.

Tayla chucked and shifted to settle more comfortably against his chest.

“I don’t think I have the heart to wake them,” he said softly, grinning when Tayla looked up at him.

She watched him for a moment in silence.

“You wanna stay?” she whispered.

He paused. Held her eyes.

“Sure,” he finally whispered, lifting his hand to tuck some of her hair behind her ear.

 

* * *

 

The first thing he saw when he woke up was a moving swirl of colors.

In his half asleep state all he could process was how surprised he was to see the northern lights in Chicago.

Which is right around the time he realized there were no northern lights in Chicago. Nor had he been transported back home where they did dance across the sky.

He squinted and dug at his eye, willing himself conscious enough and realized it was a windchime Tayla had hanging in her window. Bits of colored glass and crystals reflecting the light from the gap in her curtains and throwing colors across her ceiling.

He smiled softly to himself, somehow not surprised that another piece of her life made him feel like he was home.

He turned his head slowly to watch where she still slept. Heat crawled up his neck at the memory of the night before.

He had been respectful, offered to take the spare bedroom, at which point she had kissed him soundly and told him he had no choice. It went unspoken but understood that neither of them were ready to take the next step into intimacy, but it had still been a nerve wracking experience, crawling into bed beside her. While his heart still beat wildly, he had been surprised how easily it had been to nestle into the pocket of warmth they created and before long they had settled against each other and drifted off into sleep.

He smiled, still flushed with the recollection of the emotional rush of the night before and carefully extracted himself from her bed.

Diefenbaker greeted him as he came down the stairs and he opened the porch door so he and the puppy could wander outside and relieve themselves.

He hesitated in the kitchen. Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, like he was interloping somehow, but chastised himself. He was welcome in her home. How many times had she told him that?

He set the coffee maker up to brew and opened her refrigerator to see what he might be able to cook for breakfast for the four of them.

He picked up a carton of eggs and grabbed a packaged roll of sausage meat with his other hand, closing the door with his foot.

The sausage hit the floor, thankfully not bursting open, and he did a comically panicked juggling of the egg carton in midair when his father’s face met him from behind the door.

He froze, eggs now clutched to his chest, closed his eyes and groaned, slowly looking down and breathing out in a rush when there didn’t seem to be any egg oozing out of the container.

“First off,” he growled. “Could you knock or say hello or something, not just _appear_ when I’m holding a carton of _eggs_ ,” he said, placing said carton on the counter and retrieving the package of meat from the floor, glaring at his father the entire time.

“Well it’s not like I knew you were holding eggs. I may be dead but I can’t exactly see through appliance doors,” his father huffed, as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet.

“And secondly,” Fraser continued, turning to face him and placing his hands on his hips. “What are you even doing here? Haunting me and my apartment is one thing, but don’t you think it’s a little rude to just appear in someone else’s home?”

“Nonsense,” he scoffed, waving his mitten covered hand, glancing out the window where the dogs were. “You know, giving someone a dog up north could be construed a certain way.”

Benton rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. “Please tell me you’re not here to lecture me.”

“Hardly, I’m just checking in. Am I not allowed to know what’s going on in my son’s life?”

Fraser sighed again and turned to find a skillet.

“Let’s not pretend you don’t spy on me.”

“I take offense to that! If I had been spying I could have just floated myself into that bedroom last night,” he grinned, looking at his son from the side.

“You did not?!” Fraser asked, horrified.

“Jesus no son, I do have manners. Also, there are some things I just don’t need to know.”

“Nothing happened,” he mumbled, turning back to the stove, face flushed in embarrassment.

“We’ll you certainly could do worse, she seems like hardy stock.”

Fraser turned to look at him with wide eyes, mortified.

“ _Hardy stock_? She’s not cattle dad!”

“I know that! I just think she’s a better choice than…” the older man, trailed off, obviously deciding against finishing.

“Yes, I know,” Fraser said quietly, forming sausage into patties which he dropped to sizzle in the pan.

“Son…”

“I know you didn’t approve of Victoria dad, and quite frankly she haunts me just as much as you do…”

“I know,” his father offered softly. “I’m just…I’m glad you found someone. You two seem to understand each other.”

Fraser nodded, shifted the meat in the pan with a spatula and met his father’s gaze.

“We’re learning.”

“That’s good,” his dad smiled. “Anything worth its salt takes work and time.”

Cold panic sliced through him as he watched his dad’s gaze drift over his shoulder.

He spun around to see Tayla, her shoulder propped against the wall watching him.

“I…uh…um…I just…I was making breakfast…”

 “You were talking to your dad?” she asked simply.

“Uh…” he grasped for something to say.

“Yes,” he finally spit out, unable to find any logical way to explain this away.

“You see him?”

“Sometimes…he tends to…visit…at the most inopportune moments.”

Tayla nodded, slightest tilt to her lips hinting at a smile and moved into the kitchen.

She braced her hand on his shoulder as she pulled a coffee cup from the cabinet and poured herself a mug.

“Sometimes I wish I could see my mom. Never really got to say goodbye to her. Or dad for that matter,” she added, pouring cream into her coffee.

“Pretty much every Lyman has blue eyes. Except mom. She had brown. I _know_ she had brown eyes. But I can’t really remember them,” she finished softly, smiling at him from over her mug as she took a sip.

He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. This girl that had entered his life. Accepted every broken thing about him. From his mountaineer habits, to the scars on his heart, to the fact that he just carried on a conversation with his dead father in her kitchen.

“Thank you,” he whispered, unsure of how else to respond to the situation.

She smiled and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. He felt all the tension melt out of his muscles as she leaned against him.

“Morning,” she grinned.

“Morning,” he smiled back.

She laughed and headed towards the back porch to check on her new furry charge and he grinned to himself, glanced around the kitchen, not seeing his father anywhere and turned back to finish their breakfast.


	7. Chapter 7

Tayla had just sat down in front of her fireplace with a coffee mug full of eggnog and a book, her not so little anymore puppy, now named Jolene, sprawled lazily in front of the hearth, when there was a knock on her door.

It was late on Christmas night, she wasn’t expecting anyone, everyone in her immediate circle had family things going on, but she wasn’t surprised when she opened the door to see Benton.

“Hey,” she grinned, her breath appearing in the cold air.

Diefenbaker slinked past her legs and went trotting into the house, making a beeline towards the fireplace.

“She hasn’t invited us in! That’s just plain rude Diefenbaker!” Fraser scolded to his retreating form.

Tayla chuckled, reaching out to grab a handful of his leather jacket and pulling him inside.

“You’re letting all my warm air out, besides…he knows this is his home too,” she smiled, giving him a soft look.

He ducked his head as he felt his face flush and removed his jacket and boots in the entryway before leaning in to give her a soft kiss.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she grinned, unable to stop herself. She rolled her eyes in amusement, at her own giddy reaction more than anything and headed back to the living room.

He smiled to himself, swiping at his eyebrow and followed, almost being knocked over when he rounded the corner and Jolene spotted her rescuer.

“Jo-jo! You know better!”

Fraser chuckled, firmly pushing her off him as he knew Tayla was trying to teach her not to jump on people. He held up a scolding finger and waited until the chastised pup sat at his feet before he finally got down on his knee to hug and tussle with her.

“Oof, she’s getting big,” he laughed when the squirming mass of fur knocked him on his butt.

“Yeah, well, she’s all your fault,” Tayla grinned, returning from the kitchen with a second mug of eggnog for him.

When he finally fought his way standing again, accepting the drink with a quiet _thank you kindly_ , Jolene decided she had said a proper hello to her second favorite person and returned to wrestle with Dief in front of the fire.

“Figured you’d be at the Vecchio’s tonight,” Tayla said, folding her legs up underneath herself where she nestled into the corner of her couch.

“Oh no,” he laughed. “Not sure I would survive,” he smiled sitting next to her, hand resting warm on her ankle when she shifted to shove her toes under his thigh. “I thought I might go tomorrow evening.”

Tayla laughed. “Yeah, Ma guilt tripped me pretty bad. It being my first year back home, and after dad. That whole family together is enough of an adventure, I wasn’t about to try that with a holiday on top of it.”

Benton chuckled in agreement and leaned his head back.

“No tree?” he asked after a moment, realizing that her home was for the most part bare of any decorations.

“Naw, I’m not big on holidays. Decorating is too much work. That was more my mom’s thing. Even after we were grown she’d drag out the boxes of stuff every year. I donated most of it after she died.”

Fraser hummed, the small parcel he had in his pocket feeling heavy and awkward all of a sudden.

He watched the logs shift in the fireplace before he sighed and figured he might as well, hoping it wouldn’t make her uncomfortable, if she wasn’t a fan of the holiday.

He leaned forward to put his mug on the coffee table and then dug into his jeans’ pocket, pulling out a simple craft paper wrapped square tied in twine.

“It’s not much…” he started quietly, falling silent as she sat upright beside him, wrapping her arms around his bicep and resting her cheek on his shoulder. “I must admit I was rather negligent in considering you might not be particularly cheerful for the holidays…”

“Hush,” she grinned. “I never said I was against them, I’m just not into the pomp and circumstance of it all.”

He smirked at her, feeling better and held the small package out to her.

“You really didn’t need to you know,” she whispered, looking at him from under her lashes as she carefully untied the twine and folded open the paper.

“I know,” he replied quietly.

She lifted the thin black cord and let the white pendant rest in the palm of her hand as she looked at it.

“I got it when I went to requalify for my sharpshooter badges,” he mumbled, referring to when he had gone north for his yearly reevaluation. “It’s made from a polar bear tooth. The polar bear is one of the most highly regarded animals to the Inuit. Almost equal to man.”

She smiled softly at him, unhooking the clasp and holding it out for him to take, reaching up to pull her hair to the side so he could loop it around her neck for her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, cupping his cheek and kissing him slowly. He closed his eyes and leaned into her, his fingers catching on the necklace’s cord as he slid his hand around the back of her neck.

She hummed as she finally pulled away, resting her forehead against his and sighed, reluctant to move away.

“I gotta admit,” she started, dropping her hand to play with a button on his shirt. “I had no idea what to get you,” she laughed.

He chuckled, “That’s quite alright, there’s no need.”

“But…” she cut him off with a grin. “Half my freezer is currently being taken up with moose, caribou and ptarmigan. Found a butcher that put together a little gift basket for me.”

The grin on his face was slowly growing wider.

“Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m not!”

“You’re a very hard man to buy for!” she giggled, nudging him with her foot in a playful approximation of a kick.

“I’m not!” he laughed, grabbing her ankle to stop her from striking again. “I’m quite touched actually. It’s hard to find tastes of home in Chicago,” he finished pulling her into another kiss. “Thank you.”

“Good,” she smiled against his lips, “’Cause there may or may not be a package of pemmican in my pantry too,” she laughed.

He laughed with her and kissed her again.

“You know, food is a quite common and important gift to give between the Inuit, it’s pretty much their most precious resource.”

She rolled her eyes at him and climbed into his lap.

“Shut up about the Inuit,” she whispered, situating herself and kissing him deeply.

“Understood,” he mumbled against her lips, letting his hands fall warm and heavy onto her hips.

Fraser growled when he felt a paw hit his knee.

“Diefenbaker…” he said slowly, warning in his tone.

Tayla laughed and shifted off his lap. “Yes, I got a present for you too baby,” she grinned, kissing the wolf on the top of his head as she left the room to retrieve it.

Diefenbaker looked at Fraser with glee. Not only had he successfully interrupted their kissing but Tayla had called him _baby_.

“Keep it up, I’m going to lock you outside. You can sleep in the snow,” Fraser threatened under his breath right before Tayla came back.

“Let’s see if this fits you,” she said, motioning Dief over to where she sat back down on the couch. He put his paws on her knees and stood letting her affix the fabric straps around his chest and body, adjusting a couple buckles for a better fit.

When she was finished and pulled away Fraser saw the reflective white letters spelling out ‘POLICE’ that now adorned either side of him.

“Now he can go anywhere he needs to without you having to make excuses,” Tayla grinned.

It had only been a few weeks before that they had been, rather rudely in Fraser’s opinion, accosted and chastised and all but chased out the door of a shopping center. Only to be saved when Ray came in from parking the Riviera and flashed his badge telling the irate owner that the dog was with him.

Diefenbaker all but strutted around the house, showing off his new uniform.

Fraser laughed. “Very nice Dief.”

 

* * *

 

Morning dawned to the soft hush of snow falling outside. Fraser drifted in and out of a contented sleep for a while but when he finally opened his eyes he smiled, watching the way it drifted past the window. He sighed, shifting just enough to be able to look at where Tayla was curled up in the crook of his arm and he couldn’t help by wonder at how his life had changed.

The northern wilds would always be _home_ , but the big city of Chicago had come to embody that word in ways he could have never predicted.

He couldn’t help but remember sleeping in with Victoria. Those first couple days when everything had still been artificially blissful. He had lost himself in the comfort of having another person close to him, let himself relax in her touch.

Looking back now he knows it was all a lie. She had manipulated him before she had even arrived in Chicago. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the depth of planning and effort it must have taken. Tracking him down when he was so far from home, staging fake crime scenes at his father’s cabin as well as both his and Ray’s homes. Everything had been so intricate, she had left nothing to chance and it still twisted his stomach to know everything had been a scheme.

He remembers coming out of the fog of anesthesia after his surgery, a small, bitter part of himself wondering if Ray had shot him on purpose, to keep him from leaving. But during the many quiet hours during his recovery he knew it had just been pain and heartbreak talking. If anything he was grateful, in a strange sort of way, that Ray had fired. Saved him from himself. He was so blinded by the intensity of their relationship, healthy or not, that he would have gone with her, had been intent on going with her. There’s no telling what would have happened, but he can’t help but feel relieved. He’s not sure he would have ever been able to trust her.

He does however trust Tayla. He _knows_ he’s safe with her. And it makes the comfort he told himself he felt with Victoria ring all the more false. Tayla has never tried to manipulate him. Even when they were both trembling with nervousness, she had been nothing but honest with him, almost bluntly so. Because while saying what you felt was terrifying, she hid nothing from him. The contentment and comfort is so much deeper, holding her now, knowing he’s safe.

“You’re thinking awfully loud up there,” she whispered, eyes still closed, face tucked into his neck.

He chuckled, low and quiet in his chest.

“My apologizes,” he grinned, looking down to see her blinking sleepily at him.

She hummed against his skin and shifted, stretching a bit before tangling her legs with his again.

“Just…thinking,” he said quietly. “About everything that’s happened…to end up here.”

“I wouldn’t trade another chance…for being here, now.”

She smiled softly, reached up to run her fingers through the hair at the base of his skull and pulled him so his forehead rested against hers.

“Nor would I,” she whispered, kissing him softly.

He let her mold herself against him, leg hitched over his while they kissed soft and quiet, more just contact, being close than even real kisses.

They’d have to move soon, the dogs no doubt needed to go out. And they had promised Ma Vecchio they would make an appearance at some point today.

But for now they were content and drowsy with relaxation and he could think of no reason to leave the warmth of the blankets for the snow falling outside.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sick?”

“What?” Fraser asked, turning to look at Ray, surprised by the sudden break of silence.

“We’ve been on this stakeout for three hours now and you haven’t told me one Inuit story.”

“I apologize Ray, I wasn’t aware you were waiting for one.”

“I’m not. You just normally don’t shut up…you alright?”

Fraser smirked, understanding his friend’s sarcasm as the concern it actually was.

“I’m alright Ray,” he offered, turning to look back out the window at the warehouse door they were watching.

Ray hummed, taking a drink of his coffee.

“I’ve just been lost in thought,” Fraser mumbled after an extended beat of silence.

“Nine times outta ten you thinking about something ends up with me risking my life somehow. Should I be worried?”

He turned to look back at Ray and smiled, taking the mug of coffee he offered him from his thermos.

“I think you’re safe,” he grinned.

Ray nodded and turned back to his own drink, the caffeine being a necessity for this overnight gig. Technically Fraser didn’t even have to be there, it’s not as if stakeouts were an explicit part of his liaising job. But he had tagged along, as always, in support of his partner and Ray was glad he had such a good friend. This job would be boring as hell if he had been alone.

“I never thanked you…for that night,” Fraser mumbled.

Ray looked over at him, brow drawn down in confusion. Thinking back over everything they had been through together.

Fraser looked up at him for a split second before looking back down at his cooling cup of coffee.

“With Victoria.”

There was a wounded surprised sound in Ray’s throat.

“Jesus Benny… _I shot you._ What the hell would you wanna thank me for?”

“For stopping me.”

Ray’s eyes were wide.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, voice strained.

Fraser shot him a smile then.

“Nothing, I promise. Just been thinking a lot about things…how things could have turned out.”

“Hey,” Ray started, jamming his mug between the dashboard and the windshield, shifting in his seat so he could face him properly.

“First of all…don’t. Don’t thank me for that. You have no idea how many times I wish I could re-do that moment…”

“Ray…”

“Don’t. Just…don’t. I _shot_ you. I shot my best friend. Jesus Benny…” he hissed, looking away and scrubbing a hand over his face. “You have any idea how freaking panicked I was when I saw you fall. Flipping hell…” he trailed off. “Yeah, I wanted to stop you. Shit…but not like that,” he whispered.

“I know, I know it was an accident, I knew it then. I’ve never blamed you for that. If I had gone with her I would have destroyed everything…”

“You loved her Benny,” Ray said quietly.

“I did. But I was blinded. She lied, from the day I saw her, she was lying.”

“What brought all this up?”

Fraser sighed, watching the warehouse, which was easier than making eye contact.

“Just…”

“You and Tayla fight?”

He chuckled then.

“No, not at all actually. I’m just…scared,” he admitted.

“Of what?” Ray prompted him after he sat in silence for a moment.

“I misjudged everything with Victoria. I lost myself in the intensity of it all. Went against everything I’ve ever stood for.”

“Tayla’s not Victoria.”

“I know,” he said, forcing a smirk. “I just…”

“Stop…just stop,” Ray cut him off, shifting to face straight ahead again and grabbed the steering wheel.

Fraser looked down at his hands as if he’d been chastised.

Ray sighed, twisting his grip on the leather of the wheel.

“Look,” he sighed again. “You loved Victoria. I ain’t saying I was happy about it. She used you. She set you up. And had it been some random broad on the street I can’t say I would have been able to control my actions.”

He could see Fraser look up at him from the side.

“But she wasn’t some random broad. And you loved her, right or wrong. And no, I didn’t want you to go, for a million different reasons. But I respect you,” he said, looking over at his friend. “And I would have supported you, no matter what hole you were digging for yourself.”

Fraser smiled and had to look away as he felt a flush heat his face.

“I would give anything to go back to that day and protect you, to _not_ shoot you, Jesus. But if I know anything…it’s that Tay is _nothing_ like Victoria.”

“I know,” Fraser smiled again. “I keep telling myself that.”

Ray grinned at him. “She’s never going to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder when Fraser looked at him.

“I’m happy for you man…you’re my brother,” he whispered and Fraser’s breath caught in his throat, overwhelmed with love and affection for his friend. All he could do was smile and nod.

“She’s good. I’ve known that girl a long time. And honestly, I’m protective of you both. I wouldn’t let her go out with some douchebag just as much as I wouldn’t let you date some bitch. So in my opinion…you guys are perfect.”

“Thanks Ray,” Fraser whispered.

“Lissen Benny,” Ray said softly, “I know it’s scary. And I know you’re still getting over the past. But Tay…she ain’t gonna hurt you.”

Fraser smiled at him and nodded. He had gotten himself so twisted up inside his own head. Fixated on all the ways Victoria had used him. Couldn’t think past the blind panic at the thought of anything approaching that level of pain again.

But Ray was right. He had nothing to worry about. There hadn’t been a single thing between he and Tayla that should make him worry. He needed to let go of Victoria, for once and for all. He had meant what he said to Tayla just the other morning. There might be a part of him that will always wonder what could have happened, but he wouldn’t trade where he was now for a second chance. He wouldn’t trade the connection he had with Tayla or the contentment he felt with her.

He looked over at Ray, the word _brother_ whispering on loop in his head and smiled.

“Thanks brother,” he whispered.

Ray nodded, sniffed and scrubbed at his nose to try to hide the grin on his face and looked back out the windshield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jolene
> 
> [](http://s16.photobucket.com/user/montecarlogurl87/media/FicBanners/Jolene_zps3e6pkp1m.jpg.html)  
> 
> 
> and the necklace Benton gives her
> 
> [](http://s16.photobucket.com/user/montecarlogurl87/media/FicBanners/Necklace_zpsch2h5qwz.jpg.html)  
>    
> 


	8. Chapter 8

“You know you don’t have to stay here right?” Ray asked him, for what must have been the twelfth time.

“Yes Ray,” he answered, again, with a smile.

For the most part the station was empty, running a skeleton crew overnight for New Years. It never failed, something always happened with all the drinking and fireworks and partying. But it was normally the beat cops that took the brunt of the abuse, so only Ray, of course Fraser, Welsh and a few other people were there, in case anything too crazy happened.

They had half-heartedly been playing poker, using paperclips and rubber bands instead of chips and after Fraser won a couple games they started playing go fish and war and whatever else they could remember enough of the rules for.

The fireworks were already popping outside, muted inside the walls and there had been a couple people brought in in cuffs from getting out of hand while partying, but it had been relatively quiet.

Around eleven Tayla came strutting in, backpack on and a huge tray balanced on her hand.

“What are you doing here?” Ray asked in surprised, putting down his cards, game forgotten.

Fraser shot to his feet to take the pan from her hand.

“Thanks hun,” she mumbled, turning to Ray, “You thought I’d leave you boys here alone?”

She put her backpack down on the chair Fraser had been sitting in and unzipped it, pulling out several containers, all filled with food. The pan Fraser had set down containing a pasta dish filled with meat and cheese. The last container she pulled out was a Tupperware filled with her crack cookies which Ray made a grab for but she snatched back and handed to Fraser for safe keeping.

She even had a green glass bottle shoved into the mesh drink pocket on the side of the bag.

“That better not be what I think it is,” Welsh growled from his office door.

“What?! It’s cider!” she grinned, even though it was blatantly _not_ cider.

“Crack it open,” he smirked, headed to the lunch room to get paper cups for everybody.

Fraser and Ray shot each other a look and grinned.

“Couldn’t let my boys be bored and alone on New Years,” she grinned, sitting down and propping her feet up as everybody plated up their food.

They just shook their heads and got their own helpings.

 

* * *

 

Everybody had paper cups full of _not_ cider as they counted down at midnight, making a toast and cheering.

Ray grabbed her and kissed her on the forehead, she laughed before pushing him away, finishing off her drink.

Fraser sipped his own drink and met her eyes shyly and she couldn’t help the flush that crept up her neck. He glanced around nervously, finding most everyone occupied for the moment, he leaned in and kissed her softly.

She closed her eyes and leaned against him, hand squeezing around his arm and shared a small smile with him as he pulled away, blushing.

She smirked before Welsh, laughing off to the side with Ray, loudly asked if there was more ‘cider.’

She laughed, finally breaking eye contact with Benton and grabbed the bottle for another round.

He watched her, unable to wipe the grin from his face and cleared his throat and tugged at his ear when he realized Ray was watching him like a hawk.

Ray just laughed, grinning at him and Fraser couldn’t help but smile back at his friend.

 

* * *

 

They swung by Tayla’s to pick up Diefenbaker and Jolene, where they had enjoyed free run of her house, away from the fireworks, and Tayla drove them all back to Fraser’s small apartment.

The dogs made a beeline to the radiator, flopping down in front of its warmth and quickly fell asleep. Fraser chuckled at them as he hung up he and Tayla’s jackets, it was well past midnight now and neither animal had been happy about their routine being upset.

Perhaps it had been the cup full of champagne he had indulged in at the station, his system had never been given the chance to build up a tolerance to alcohol, but he felt charged in a way and knew he wouldn’t be able to drop off to sleep as quickly as their furry companions.

Tayla, who had imbibed far more champagne, although her system most certainly had a tolerance, he had seen her drink Ray under the table more than once, must have felt the same, as she busied herself with putting her bag in the corner and retreated to his bathroom to change.

He took the opportunity to shed his outer layers, down to his undershirt and sat to remove his boots. He gazed around his apartment as he methodically unlaced his boots and had to smile at the small ways Tayla had touched his home. Her shoes left by the door. Her bag in the corner. Jolene snoring next to Diefenbaker. The star projector lamp she had gifted him with still sitting in a place of honor on his dresser.

He was pulled away from his musing when she brushed her hand across his shoulders as she came back out of the bathroom, a worn pair of cotton shorts riding low on her hips and a white tank top that honestly didn’t do much to conceal what was underneath.

He watched her crawl onto his bed, nestled into his blanket and he smiled at her at how comfortable she seemed to be in his space.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said softly, trading his jeans for a pair of RCMP sweatpants before crawling in next to her.

She rolled her eyes at him but pulled him over to her, hooking one leg over his and returning his kiss.

He let his hand run down the length of her thigh, squeezing the muscle and she sighed softly.

He pulled away from her, shifting to the end of the bed and kneeling on the floor at the foot. She propped herself up on her elbow and was watching him with questions in her eyes.

He smirked, flushed with an unfamiliar mix of anxiousness and exhilaration and cupped the heel of her foot in the palm of his hand, pressing deep into her arch with his thumb.

She hummed, smiled at him and shifted to a more comfortable position.

He gave each foot fair attention, his courage and pride being bolstered by the soft, contented smile she watched him with. He moved up to slide his thumbs up the sides of her calves, she hadn’t lost any of the muscle she had built from years of horseback riding. She moaned softly as he dug his fingers into her skin. He eased the pressure, slipping his fingers into the soft skin behind her knees, hesitated a moment and worked his way further up still, stopping himself at halfway up her thighs.

She used the grip of his hands to anchor herself and sat up in front of him, tugging her tank top up over her head.

He held her eyes, resisting the urge to look down at where she had bared herself. She grinned and leaned forward, slipping her fingers through where his hair held a slight curl where it met his neck, and kissed him softly. He closed his eyes and let himself fall into her, tangling one hand in her own hair and letting the other rest gently against her side, her skin flushed and warm under his touch.

He could feel her smile against his lips as she tugged on his arms, pulling him back onto the bed and resting over her. He braced himself on his knees and hands, shifting his weight when she took hold of his own shirt, pulling it over his head. He finally allowed himself to look, watching the way his hand slipped up her side, feeling the expanse of her ribs as she inhaled, framing her breast in the curve of his thumb and fingers. Her hand slipped across the side of his neck, down to his chest, fingertips coming to rest soft against the odd shaped scar from his childhood. He kissed her again before whispering against her lips to roll over. She grinned at him, amused, but just as caught up in their energy as he was and shifted to her stomach as he leaned back to give her the room to move.

His knees were sunk into the mattress, bracketing her hips and he let his hand rest warm and heavy above the waistband of her shorts.

She had two tattoos that rested like wings on her shoulders. He had seen glimpses whenever she wore a tank top but he had only ever been able to see the edges of the dark Celtic style swirls against her skin, never the full picture. He couldn’t quite explain how he felt, seeing the stylized wolf and horse spread across her skin. He leaned forward, tracing the ink with his fingertips.

“I got ‘em when I was eighteen,” she offered quietly, tilting her head so she could just barely meet his eyes from her position.

“They’re beautiful,” he whispered quietly, placing a kiss on the bare skin between the two images. Forcing himself to not get lost in thought over the designs at the moment and slipped his hand down to dig his thumb into the muscle next to her shoulder blade.

He had done this before, relaxed her with his touch, although never with her bared to him like now. But he knew she preferred a deeper, stronger pressure. He had been worried the very first time he had massaged her shoulders and she had asked for more and more pressure, concerned he would hurt her. She had assured him she would let him know if she met her limit and he felt the way her muscles relaxed under his hands and learned where she carried her tension and how to dig it out with deep kneads and slides of his thumb.

She sighed under his hands and he could see this slight smile to her mouth as she closed her eyes and relaxed under him. He grinned, unable to stop himself and slid the heel of his hand down the side of her spine, amused at how she seemed to not be able to decide whether to melt under the pressure or arch up into his touch.

She was boneless under his hands, comfortable and content. Had it not been for the slow back and forth of her thumb against his knee, where she had rested her hand against him, he would have thought she had fallen asleep. He was not, however, under any misconception that she hadn’t felt his arousal from where he sat astride her legs. His well-worn sweatpants didn’t offer much concealment, but he also wasn’t particularly trying to hide it from her.

He shifted his weight back enough so she could roll over and he felt the flush creep across his chest as she looked up at him.

She just smiled softly, pulling him down to kiss her with one hand, and letting her other trail up his arm and over his shoulder in a gentle approximation of the massage he had just given her.

He allowed himself to reach for her finally, the swell of her breast fitting into his palm, felt her arch into the touch.

He realized in rush, how content he was himself. Excited for sure, anxious perhaps, but neither nervous nor afraid.

Even at their best, there had always been a cold undercurrent of worry and guilt with Victoria. He had tried to tell himself that love could conquer. That they could build something stable. But despite their blinding chemistry, they had been opposites from the beginning, criminal and cop. That dichotomy tainting the whole sordid relationship from the start.

Victoria had crashed through his walls, intent on her own goals, manipulative ones in the end.  Tayla however had systematically worn them down. Somehow always knowing when to push past his bouts of panic, past his comfort zone, and when instead to sit in silence next to him, comforting him with just her presence and steadfast support.

He had given his trust to Victoria against his better instincts, blinded by his heart. But he and Tayla had entrusted their scars to each other and found nothing but safety from the other. This, now, was something he could have never had had with Victoria.

He didn’t doubt that he had loved her, in every way he had known how at the time.

But he had fallen in love with Tayla. He understood the difference now.

Her fingertips brushed against the waxy skin of the scar that sat low on his back, a bullet buried somewhere underneath, hesitated for a moment, as if she was just accepting that it was there, and then continued on, slipping just underneath the elastic of his waistband.

He trailed his own hand down the softness of her stomach and hooked his fingers into the hem of her shorts, tugging them gently before finally pulling away from their kiss to shift back. He couldn’t help the blush that burned up his neck, but she was just as flushed as he was and covered her face with her hands, laughing at herself and he chuckled himself, kissing the hollow of her hip as he pulled them off her legs.

He stood nervously at the end of the bed for a moment before shedding his own pants, crawling back over her, letting her pull him towards her with her hands and the warmth of her legs wrapping around his hips.

Kissing was easy, they had perfected that over the months before ever making it to this point, but it also gave him the convenient reason to close his eyes. He kept them closed after she broke their kiss. He could feel himself trembling, no doubt she could as well. Finally he opened them when she laid her hand against his cheek.

She smiled, glanced away, giving proof to her own shyness and then took his hand and placed it on her chest, holding it there until the rapid beat of her heart registered against his palm.

“I’m kinda freaking out too,” she grinned, soft and amused.

He chuckled, nodded and dropped his head.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t,” she smiled, meeting his eyes when he looked back up at her.

He kissed her again, not lingering long, moving on to drag his lips down her neck, encouraged by the soft sound she made, choked in her throat. He inhaled deep, swore he could smell the heat of her skin, let his tongue drag across her collar bone, kissed the hollow of her throat, sucking just enough to see the skin flush from the blood brought to the surface. He glanced up at her, his nerves jittering under his skin and shifted again, leaving a trail of warmth across the swell of her breast before gently pulling her nipple into the heat of his mouth.

Her hand immediately shifted from his shoulder to the crown of his head, her fingers trying to find purchase in his short hair and he rested his opposite hand on her ribcage, feeling the sharp inhale she made when he lapped against the sensitive spot.

“Jesus…” she breathed.

He sighed against her, never breaking his hold and swirled his tongue again, suckling softly and mentally cataloguing her reactions, what she seemed to enjoy.

She was clearly appreciating his attention, which he tried not to be too prideful about, but she wasn’t completely lost. She had felt the weight of his arousal and the sticky wetness that had gathered at the tip brush against her leg when he had shifted his weight. He had tried to maneuver himself away, focused on her for the moment, but she had simply hooked one leg over his hip, shifting her other over and eased his weight down into a soft pressure upon her thigh.

He was the one that took the ragged breath then, finally breaking the connection he held with his mouth and rocked his forehead against her collarbone, stuttered hitch to his hips pressing himself into her warm skin, spreading a sticky trail across the top of her thigh and onto the swell of her hip.

He blinked against his eyelashes sticking together and looked back up at her, moving to kiss her softly before shifting, sliding himself towards the foot of the bed again, leaving a trail of gentle kisses down her side.

His heart was thumping wildly against his ribcage as he leaned forward and licked a path over her hip, cleaning himself from her skin.

“Fuck…” she hissed and a shiver rolled down his spine.

He glanced up at her for just a moment before finally allowing himself to taste her. He splayed his hand wide over her hip when she arched up against his tongue, a whine strangled in her throat.

She grabbed his hand where it rested on her hip and threaded her fingers through his. He took his time exploring with soft pressure, dipping his tongue into her. Her fingers squeezed around his when he gently suckled on her clit, her grasp telling him when where his attention was most appreciated.

She tugged on his hand and he pulled away, tongue sweeping over the wetness on his lips. He couldn’t help but grin, returning to the head of the bed to kiss her again, moaning when he realized she was tasting herself in this kiss.

She reached down and took him in her hand, stroking him slowly, the slip of his foreskin a new sensation to her. He braced his arms on either side of her head and gently rested his weight against her, letting her guide him, breaking their kiss to groan as he finally slid inside her.

She breathed his name, curling her fingers through his hair. He rested his forehead against her own and kissed her.

“I love you,” he said quietly, chest tight with emotion.

He could feel her smile against his lips, “I love you too,” she whispered.

He could feel the soft skin of her thigh brushing against his side where she cradled him against her body and he lost himself in the rhythm between them.

 

* * *

 

Fraser woke warm and contented. Tayla’s head resting in the crook of his arm, pressed against his side. It only took him a moment to realize what woke him. Her hand was making slow strokes lower and lower on his stomach, nails lightly dragging over the hollow of his hip, sparking his nerve endings like electricity.

He hummed, letting his hand run down her side and felt her smile against his chest.  His concentration was ripped apart when she took him into her hand and slid her tongue over his nipple at the same time.

“Tayla…”

She hushed him, sitting up and sliding her leg over him, trailing kisses over his chest before sitting back onto his thighs. His chest was flushed red, self-conscious under her gaze, but it’s not as if he could deny he enjoyed her attention, the heavy weight of it obvious in the warmth of her palm.

He closed his eyes and breathed deep, feeling her shift her weight again and was caught wholly off guard when the warmth of her hand was replaced by the wet heat of her mouth.

He groaned, instinctively reaching towards her, catching himself before grabbing her and finally settled on cupping her cheek in his hand before tangling his fingers into her hair to hold it out of her face for her.

She glanced up at him and grinned lopsided around where she held him in her mouth and his gut clenched at the sight.

She explored his foreskin with her tongue and cupped the weight of his balls in her free hand before returning to the torturously slow in-out slide of her tongue against the underside. Just when he thought he would lose himself to her ministrations she pulled away.

He opened his eyes, breathing hard through his nose and dropped his hand from her hair to rest on her thigh where she had moved to sit up above him, positioning him against her body before sliding down slowly and burying him in her heat.

He moaned, closing his eyes against his will and gripped her thigh tighter. She leaned forward and kissed him and he smiled against her lips and reached up to once again hold her hair for her, bracing his feet and pushing up against her as she rolled her hips over him.

 

* * *

 

The second time he awoke it was well past dawn but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, still  feeling content and comfortable, the pleasant ache of used muscles in his legs and stretching across his back.

He reached up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before trying to extract himself from Tayla without waking her up.

She sighed and shifted, stretching her arms and shoulders up over her head.

“Sorry,” he said softly, smiling at her when she rolled onto her side next to him. “Was trying not to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled.

He pulled the blanket away from his legs and swung them over the side, cringing at the cold floor against his toes.

“I just gotta…” he paused, caught in embarrassment.

“Pee?” she chuckled.

He glanced at her sideways before looking away immediately.

She laughed, moving to sit up next to him, completely unashamed as the blanket fell away from her bare skin.

“I had your cock in my mouth earlier,” she whispered and he could feel his ears burn and face flame. “I think you can tell me you gotta piss,” she grinned, kissing him.

“Fair point,” he choked out, scratching at his eyebrow, smirking despite the heat that still scorched his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

She was gone from the bed when he returned and judging by the unwavering stare of Diefenbaker and Jolene she was in the kitchen making food.

He retrieved his RCMP sweatpants from where they had been discarded on the floor the night before and padded barefoot over to the kitchen, leaning his shoulder against the edge of the wall.

She had his small beat-up coffee pot burbling away and was pouring pasty white pancake mix into a skillet on the stove. He watched her in silence for a moment, she was wearing one of his flannel shirts, hanging by one or two crooked buttons over her chest and her underwear. If under oath he would have to admit that he enjoyed the view.

He stepped up behind her before he could think himself out of it and wrapped his arm around her waist, dropping a kiss to her bare shoulder where his too-large shirt was slipping off.

“Hey,” she said quietly, swaying in his embrace, leaning back and letting him support her weight.

“Hi,” he grinned, meeting her eyes.

She giggled and kissed him softly before turning her attention to the pancake in the skillet before it burned.

He reluctantly pulled away from her and moved over to the coffee pot, pouring them both cups. He watched her as he fixed her mug, cream and sugar, and thought about how fast and intense and blinding it had been with Victoria. How different it was now. He and Tayla had taken their time falling together and here she was, half naked, wearing his clothes, wandering around his home and he felt nothing but comfort with her, didn’t feel any hesitation about being able to reach out and touch her.

“What are you grinning about?” she asked, flipping another pancake as he carried her coffee over to her.

“I’m happy,” he said simply, setting it down and leaning into kiss her just because he could.

 

* * *

 

“Do you believe in fate?”

“Oh lord, why do I have a feeling I’m gonna regret this conversation?”

“It’s merely a question Ray.”

“Fate is not a simple question Benny.”

“Well it’s a theoretical one.”

“Fate, destiny, free-will… it’s complicated. Take you for example. Was I fated to be partners with a crazy Mountie and his deaf wolf who constantly endanger my life in the most bizarre ways? Is that some sort of cosmic punishment? Or is it just a really weird coincidence? ‘Cus with you, it’s hard to say, you always manage to get us out of whatever hijinks you get us into and I’m not sure how that’s possible unless there’s some higher power who is either horribly overworked watching out for you or just has a really strange sense of humor.”

Ray looked over to see Fraser just watching him.

“What?”

Fraser sighed and looked out the windshield again.

“Have you ever seen Tayla’s tattoos?”

Ray blinked. “Yeah…” he said slowly, caught off guard by the sudden change of subject. “Why?”

“A horse and a wolf Ray.”

“Yeah, so?”

“It’s like pieces of my life written into her skin… before I even met her,” he said quietly.

Ray grinned and reached across to squeeze Fraser’s shoulder.

“I dunno about fate Benny. Maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s a sign, maybe it’s just a coincidence. But what I do know is you and Tayla are about as perfect together as two people can be.”

Fraser looked up at him with a small smile. Ray shook his shoulder good-naturedly and returned his attention to the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Tayla's shoulder tattoos
> 
> [](http://s16.photobucket.com/user/montecarlogurl87/media/FicBanners/untitled191_zps7pn3iwbw.jpg.html) [](http://s16.photobucket.com/user/montecarlogurl87/media/FicBanners/untitled3asca_zpsllv7wqdl.jpg.html)  
> 


	9. Chapter 9

Fraser was headed towards the bullpen when the collar of his serge, which was normally pretty snug to begin with, became even tighter, choking him as he felt someone grab a hold of his tunic and yank him into Interrogation Room Two.

He regained his footing, turning to see who had caught him unawares just in time to see Tayla hop up onto the table, grin on her face.

“Tayla! What are you doing here…”

She hooked her foot behind his knee, throwing him off balance, again, and pulled him in between her thighs.

He muttered _oh dear_ under his breath just as he caught himself with his hands on the table on either side of her.

“I brought you boys lunch,” she grinned, “Just wanted to see you for a minute.”

“Ah.”

He couldn’t help but return her smile and had no desire to resist when she pulled him into a kiss.

Fraser shuffled his feet into a more stable stance and let himself lean into her warmth, sliding one hand along her thigh where she wrapped it around his hip, the other he lifted to cradle the back of her head.

 

* * *

 

What neither realized is Gardino had seen Fraser get unceremoniously yanked into the interview room by an unseen force and after peeking his head into the viewing room long enough to realize that it was Tayla who had pulled him inside, he had giggled his way all the way back to the bullpen to get Huey in on the joke.

“Well will you get a load of that… the Mountie’s actually got game,” Huey chuckled.

“I know right, who woulda guessed,” Gardino shot back, thinking this was the most hilarious thing he had ever seen.

 

* * *

 

Tayla sighed against his lips, slipping her fingers through the buttons of his jacket to just barely touch his  undershirt, warm from his body, underneath, about as much as she could do without going through the convoluted process of removing the uniform entirely.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the uniform, but god can it be annoying,” she smiled, wiggling her fingers in the tight confines of his jacket, and kissing the corner of his lips.

He chuckled quietly, pulling his hands away from her to brace himself on the table again, resting his forehead against hers and leaning his body weight into her as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Yes, it can be rather… restricting,” he ground out, the pressure between them leaving her no doubt as to his current predicament.

She laughed, looping her arms around his neck and letting him rest against her, tucking his face into her collar.

“Sorry,” she giggled, “I really didn’t mean to, just wanted to say hey.”

“I know,” he mumbled against her skin, pulling back to kiss her softly, the whole tone of their encounter shifting from rushed and heated to quiet and relaxed. She grinned, carding her fingers through his hair and let him just breathe against her, content to just be close while he calmed himself.

 

* * *

 

Huey shut his mouth and Gardino cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. Seeing Fraser seemingly know what to actually do with a woman had been entertaining, but now, it was clear they were eavesdropping on a private moment.

That’s also the moment Ray opened the door, freezing when he saw them standing there in what he had assumed was going to be an empty room.

“What are you two chuckleheads doing…” he trailed off, eyes going wide when he looked through the one way mirror to see his two best friends in about as intimate an embrace as you could get without needing an X rating.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing you pervs?! Those are my two best friends!”

“Relax Vecchio! We were just rating the Mountie’s skill level!”

“Out! Out! Both of you creeps! She’s like my sister and he’s like my brother and that did not come out anywhere near the way I meant it to, just get out!”

Gardino flipped him the bird as he sauntered down the hallway.

 

* * *

 

“Goddamnit!” she growled, throwing a pen towards the wall, narrowly missing Jason, one of her guys, walking through the doorway.

“Whoa…I’m hoping that wasn’t aimed at me.”

“It ran out of ink,” she mumbled, waving one hand while rubbing her temple with the other, where the beginnings of a headache were starting to crawl across her skull.

“You alright T?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she sighed, sitting back in her chair. “What’s up?” she asked, desperately hoping for a distraction.

She hadn’t really been alright all day. She’d been aggravated and testy for no reason _._ Felt like there was static under her skin, making her restless, causing her to constantly wander back and forth between the shop and her office. Had been quite curt with a couple customers to be honest.

She had outright blown up earlier when they guys had been screwing around and exploded an empty coolant jug with the air hose. On a normal day she would have laughed with them, rationally she knew this, instead she had cussed every single one of them out, rather creatively really, until they were all just standing frozen watching her with wide eyes.

She had flushed, half in the adrenaline of anger and half in embarrassment and retreated back to her office. She bought the whole team lunch as an apology.

“Why don’t you go home T,” Jason offered, sitting in the chair across from her desk.

“Sorry,” she groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “I know I’ve been a bitch all day.”

Jason chuckled and grabbed a repair order off her desk.

“Relax. Head home, you’re having an off day, clearly something’s got you restless. Go on, we’ve got this.”

She sighed, lifting her head to smile at him, grateful everyone on her crew watched each other’s backs.

“Thanks hun. Can you just make sure Mrs. Braxton’s Oldsmobile gets done? I promised it to her in the morning.”

“Yeah, no problem T. Now get outta here,” he grinned.

 

* * *

 

She didn’t go home. Instead she drove aimlessly through town. Normally just the act of driving calmed her down. It was like meditation for her, moving, feeling the car. It was relaxing, had been ever since she had first gotten her license.

For some reason today it was not working.

It was almost making her feel more agitated. Every traffic light seemed timed to screw with her. And every person in Chicago that had no business being behind the wheel of a car seemed to be on the road with the sole purpose of pissing her off.

She drove over to the station but a glance at the parking lot told her the Riviera wasn’t there so she didn’t bother stopping, instead turning towards Fraser’s apartment.

She had just knocked on Fraser’s door for the second time when Mr. Mustafi popped his head out of his apartment behind her.

“He’s not home sweetie.”

She just sighed and nodded.

“Thanks Mr. Mustafi,” she mumbled, patting his shoulder as she passed him and headed back down the stairs.

She gave up and headed home. She attempted to read for a bit, but could barely focus enough to get through a single page. So she took a short shower and then proceeded to pace around the house absentmindedly for so long that when she finally drug herself out of her head she discovered she was completely dried off.

Something was wrong.

Something just _felt_ wrong.

She snatched her phone off the cradle and called the 27th.

Welsh told her they weren’t at the station, but if he saw them he’d tell Ray to call her.

She didn’t bother telling him she had already called Ray’s phone, a couple times actually, and had gotten no response. She just thanked the Lieutenant and hung up with a sigh.

 

* * *

 

Finally a few hours later the phone rang.

Her heart dropped when she heard Elaine’s voice on the other end.

“Are they okay?” she cut her off.

“Yeah, they’re fine. A little worse for wear maybe, but they’re alright. Figured you’d wanna know.”

“Thanks Elaine,” she said, already grabbing her car keys.

“No problem hun.”

 

* * *

 

She sidestepped a beat cop and shouldered the swinging door open, eyes instantly shooting towards Ray’s desk in the corner.

Fraser was sitting in the extra chair, his serge was filthy, partially unbuttoned and caked with mud, dripping a pool of nasty looking water onto the tile floor beneath him.

Her rushed, heavy footsteps caught his attention and he shot to his feet when he saw her, boots squelching with water.

“Tayla!”

She was not slowing her approach any and he held out his hands in front of himself to stop her.

“I’m soaking wet…”

“I don’t give a shit,” she bit out, grabbing him and hugging him fiercely, unconcerned with the cold water soaking into her own clothes.

He froze under the assault before smiling and hugging her back.

“Are you alright?” she asked, grabbing his arms and holding him out in front of her for inspection.

“Yes, I’m alright, I promise,” he assured her. “The perpetrator we were pursuing tried to escape by jumping into the river, we were forced to follow.”

“Jesus,” she hissed, rubbing a hand over her face, recoiling when the stench of the water reached her nose. “You boys are gonna be the death of me.”

That’s when Ray emerged from Welsh’s office. Whatever name brand suit it was he was wearing was far beyond saving, caked with the same algae and mud that Fraser’s serge was.

“Tay…”

Tayla hauled him into a hug before he could get another word out.

He froze, hands held out to the side, as if that saved her from his soaked clothing and shot Fraser a wide eyed look over her shoulder.

“She’s already hugged me as well,” he chuckled.

Ray rolled his eyes and grinned, finally giving Tayla a pat on the back.

“Are you alright?” she snapped, holding him away from her and inspecting him in the same way she had Benton.

“Well, I’m cold, I’m wet, I stink to high heaven and I just ruined a $300 suit… but yeah,” he grinned. “I’m alright.”

She rolled her eyes and held out her hand.

“Gimme your keys… I’ll go get you some dry clothes.”

Ray sidestepped her and went to his desk, grabbing his keys off the top and snapping the keyring off that held his house key.

“You want another uniform or just regular clothes?” she asked Fraser.

“Regular clothes are fine, thank you kindly.”

She kissed them both on the cheek before heading back out to the parking lot.

 

* * *

 

When she returned less than an hour later she was carrying a duffle bag full of clothes and had a messenger bag slung over her shoulder containing some hot, pressed sandwiches from the café down the street they often got lunch from.

Ray’s desk was vacant. Fraser’s Stetson, which had apparently escaped the plunge into the river, sat on top.

“They’re in the interrogation room with the creep.” Elaine offered.

Tayla smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, tugging the strap of the bag with the food up over her head and placing it on the desk next to Fraser’s hat.

“Those boys don’t realize how lucky they are,” Elaine grinned when Tayla turned to head towards the hallway.

Tayla grinned and winked.

 

* * *

 

Ray stopped short as he came out of the interrogation, caught off guard by Tayla leaning against the wall across from the door.

The duffle bag sat open at her feet and she just smirked and held out a stack of clothes piled on top of a fluffy towel.

Ray grinned, taking the handful from her and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

“You’re the best, thanks hun,” he said, heading down the hall towards where the station’s locker room and showers were.

Fraser was standing in the doorway waiting, soft smile on his face.

She grinned and bent down, retrieving his stack of clothes and a towel.

He glanced down each direction of the hallway, which was quieter than normal but not entirely empty, but decided he didn’t care if anyone was watching and leaned towards her, kissing her softly.

“Thank you,” he whispered against her lips, she just grinned and kissed him again.

 

* * *

 

By the time they both made it out of the showers, Tayla had the food spread out over Ray’s desk and had jammed a third chair in the tiny corner between his desk and the file cabinet where she was picking at her own sandwich.

Ray and Fraser looked at each other and grinned.

Fraser sat down in the chair next to Tayla, dropping his hand briefly onto her knee, where she had her foot propped up on the rung of his own chair and wordlessly thanked her for the meal with a soft squeeze.

Ray groaned around his bite of food, he had been starving for hours now after the disastrous chase.

“Careful Benny, I might steal her from you,” he grinned, winking at Tayla who rolled her eyes.

“Well technically Ray, she was yours first,” Fraser said simply before taking a bite of his own sandwich.

Ray swallowed whole, dropping his sandwich and hacking in surprise.

“You told him?!” he yelped, shooting a panicked look towards Tayla.

“What?” she asked sarcastically, “That I’ve slept with his best friend? Of course I told him.”

“That’s private business!”

“Yeah, _my_ private business… which he is now privy to.”

“It’s quite alright Ray, that was years before I knew either of you.”

“Oh lord this is so awkward,” he groaned.

“Relax,” Tayla laughed. “I told him we were just friends, it’s not like we had been in a serious relationship.”

“Really Ray, it doesn’t bother me. If nothing else I’m somewhat grateful to know you two shared a trusting, solid friendship.”

Ray just looked at him like he lost his mind.

“A friendship that included sex,” Tayla mumbled, grinning when Ray shot her a look.

“What?! We were friends Ray, we were close, I trusted you, I felt safe, better than me sleeping with half the football team.”

“My sentiments precisely,” Fraser answered, shuffling some papers on the desk around.

“I have the weirdest friends in the world.”

Tayla stuck her tongue out.

“And what on earth are you doing?”

Fraser looked up at him and blinked.

“Filling out our report,” he said, pen poised above the paper in one hand and his sandwich in his other.

“Can’t you just enjoy your food?”

“Well I am Ray, but it’s efficient to get a start on the paperwork as well.”

Ray rolled his eyes and returned to his own meal.


	10. Chapter 10

Tayla was sitting on Ray’s desk, swinging her feet when Ray and Fraser emerged from their interrogation.

“What’s up Tay?” Ray grinned.

“You said you guys were slammed, so I brought you lunch.”

“You’ve got the best girlfriend on the planet, you know that Benny?” Ray winked, kissing Tayla on the cheek before immediately heading towards Welsh’s office, they were in fact, slammed.

Fraser smiled, coming to stand next to Tayla, arms crossed behind him.

“Thank you for lunch Tayla.”

“Eh, no big,” she shrugged, “I needed to get out of the shop anyways, been twitchy all day.”

“Are you alright?” he asked, suddenly concerned, reaching out to touch her elbow.

“Oh yeah, sure,” she drawled, looking at him sideways with a smirk on her face he was learning meant trouble.

“Just been… frustrated,” she finished, the last word spoken low and emphasized.

“You know… when I get in one of my moods… and you’re not around to help me.”

Fraser’s eyes bugged and he reached up to tug at his collar.

“Ah, yes,” he cleared his throat. “Understood.”

“Been driving me nuts all day. The truck’s parked right in front of my office window and all I can think is how big that bed is.”

Fraser fidgeted, glanced around the bullpen.

“Can’t sit still… all the guys are asking me what’s wrong… can’t tell them I just need my boyfriend to…”

“Oh dear,” Fraser coughed, straightening his already straight belt.

“You know... if the bullpen was empty,” she started, leaning towards him and dropping into a whisper. “I’d push you down to your knees and wrap my legs around that serge.”

He coughed, face burning as red as his uniform.

She relented, squeezing his arm and winking at him.

It took him a minute, but after he was able to find his voice again he leaned towards her.

“I would let you,” he said quietly, voice trembling and face flushing all over again.

She grinned, giving me a moment to collect himself, again.

“Don’t change before you come over tonight,” she said, hopping off the desk just as Ray was leaving Welsh’s office.

She winked at him when he seemed confused for a moment and then he smirked, just a quick twitch of the corner of his lips and he shifted to stand at parade rest.

“As you wish.”

 

* * *

 

Tayla had a bit of a nudist streak when she was at home, so it wasn’t much a surprise, but still caused his stomach to flip, when he arrived to find her sitting naked on the couch reading a book.

He hung up his hat, removed his Sam Browne and lanyard and cleared his throat as he entered the living room.

Tayla smiled softly at him as he fidgeted.

They had grown quite a bit. He felt safer and more comfortable with her than anyone else he had ever been with. Partly just because she was his longest relationship, giving him, giving them both, the time to relax and explore and learn and try new things, knowing they were safe with each other.

That didn’t stop the flutter of his heartbeat, the coil low in his gut or the tremble in his hands however.

She took his hand and he let himself be pulled down to sit next to her, leaning back into the cushions when she shifted to sit astride his lap and kissed him softly.

He let himself relax under her weight, her skin soft and flushed with warmth under his hands and kissed her languidly until his nerves settled.

He gripped her hips and shifted her off his lap, sliding himself off the couch and unto his knees in front of her. Reaching up he tugged the Velcro closure of his collar open and unhooked the first two buttons of his tunic, gratified by the hitch in her breathing and the flush that spread up her chest and throat.

Gentle fingers dug into her calves and up to her knees, tugging her to the edge of the cushions. He kissed her palm when she moved to cradle his cheek, closing his eyes when she tangled her fingers in his hair like she often did, something he had learned never failed to calm him.

“Jesus Benton,” she whispered and he smiled, kissing the inside of her thigh and proceeded to relieve the frustration she had playfully complained of earlier that day.

 

* * *

 

He rose up to kiss her as she came down from her high and she laughed softly against his lips, removing her hand from where she had covered her eyes and slid her fingers under the epaulette on his shoulder.

“I love you,” she whispered, kissing him again and obscuring his quiet echo of the words.

“Parade rest Constable,” she said softly, grinning at him when he started to pull away. “And lose the pants.”

That took him a moment to comply with, having to remove his serge before he could undo the suspenders that held his pants.

“Put the jacket back on,” she said quietly and he felt his face and chest flush but he swallowed hard and put the red wool back on after removing the bottom half of his uniform.

When she didn’t give him any other orders he finally set his feet apart and crossed his arms behind himself, standing straight and staring towards the kitchen, breathing hard through the open front of his tunic.

He couldn’t stop himself from groaning aloud and closing his eyes when she slid off the couch to rest on her knees in front of him.

Absurdly his first thought when she took him into her mouth was how certain it was he would be reprimanded if he was actually standing sentry, because he was in no way in control of his reactions.

 

* * *

  
“You okay?” she asked, curled against his chest, head resting on the breast of his jacket and her hand slipped underneath it where it still laid unbuttoned against him.

“More than,” he chuckled, shifting deeper into the couch.

She propped her chin against him and smiled up at him and he reflexively smiled back, sweeping his hand up and down her back.

“The serge had some memories attached to it,” he said quietly, barest tremor to his voice.

“You should have told me,” she said simply and he was quietly grateful that she didn’t ask for details. “I wouldn’t have…”

“Don’t,” he cut her off, “I’m glad… better memories now,” he smiled and she smiled back and settled back down against his chest.

 

* * *

 

The next morning she woke slow and lazy, wrapped up warm in blankets and Benton. Only took her a moment to notice the rhythmic shifting he was doing in his sleep, pressing himself unconsciously against her backside.

She grinned to herself and arched into his body, waited for him to come awake as he mumbled and tucked his face into her neck.

Didn’t take long, and she knew the moment he was conscious enough to notice, his actions immediately froze and he incrementally started to shift backwards, unaware she was already awake.

“It’s okay,” she chuckled and he stilled again.

“My apologizes,” he whispered.

“No need,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him with a grin before shifting herself backwards and back into his arms.

“It’s alright, you’re kinda allowed.”

He could hear the smile in her voice and knew she was teasing him. Didn’t move away from where she pressed herself against him.

He contemplated rocking his hips against her again, the press of her skin and the warmth between them was incredibly tempting, knew that like she said, he was allowed, that she would respond willingly. But he found himself content to just turn his face into her neck and hold her tighter, tangled together in the warmth of her bed. Both of them relaxed enough to fall back asleep.

They were awoken a little while later by the trill of Tayla’s cell phone going off on the nightstand. It took her a moment to drag herself from the comfortable sanctuary of the covers and she reached over to check the caller ID.

“It’s Ray,” she told Benton, just as the phone stopped ringing.

“We need to get you a phone.”

He hummed behind her, pulling her back under the covers.

A chime a moment later told them that Ray had left her a voicemail.

“He must need me,” he groaned, finally rolling over and accepting the fact that he needed to face the day.

“Why don’t you take a shower, I’ll make breakfast,” she offered, turning over and resting on his chest, his arm settling around her waist.

Still, neither of them made a move to extract themselves from the bed.

“Reminds me of home,” he said quietly. “Huddled in the warmth of a tent while the world is quiet outside.”

“You miss it don’t you,” she said after a beat of silence, shifting to look up at him.

He just gave her a small, and she could tell, sad smile.

“Will you take me sometime?”

He looked down at her and gave her a genuine grin at that.

“I would love to,” he told her, bending to kiss her.

Dief whined at the closed bedroom door and Fraser laughed.

“He must need to go out.”

“I’ll let them out, make breakfast. You take a shower and call Ray back.”

Still neither of them moved.

“You’re not the only one reluctant to get up you know,” he admitted, smirking at her.

She grinned, kissed him again and forced herself to extract herself from his arms.

 

* * *

 

She was just about to go to bed, was in the kitchen putting away the clean dishes from the dishwasher when she heard Jolene whining by the door.

Normally she would assume she just needed to go out, but Jo wasn’t at the back door, she was at the front door.

The living room as dark and she silently crept her way towards the door, wondering what had caught Jo’s attention. As she got closer she could arguing muted through the door, she looked through the peep hole and was somehow not surprised to see Benton and Ray bickering back and forth standing on her porch.

She snapped the light on and snatched open the door, causing both of them to freeze and look at her with wide eyes at being caught.

“What are you…” _doing here_ , is what she started to say, only to abruptly change course and finished with “What the hell happened?!”

Both of them were beat to hell. Benton was holding his arm against his side, like maybe it or his ribs had been hurt. There was blood streaked down one side of his face and he was blinking one eye more than the other like he was having trouble keeping it open.

Ray stood next to him, Fraser’s handkerchief wrapped around one hand, busted lip and both eyes rimmed in what would no doubt be impressive black eyes come the morning.

“The station was pretty empty… kinda thought we’d crash here,” Ray said with a shrug, which just caused him to wince.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, finally looking over at Benton who stood silently, watching her from under his lashes like a child that had just come home from a school fight.

“You have a key you idiot.”

“You have a stinking key?!” Ray shouted. “We’re out here in the cold and you’re lecturing me about how we shouldn’t wake her up so late and you have a damn key?!”

Fraser shifted his Stetson in his hand and pulled the singular key from under the inner band and held it up, glancing between both Ray and Tayla, chastised.

“For the love of Christ,” she groaned, “Both of you, get in here,” she snapped, grabbing Fraser’s hat from his hand and hanging it up on her coat rack herself.

She drug two chairs out from under her dining room table and pointed.

“Strip. Sit. Both of you.”

“Hey now, I love both of you… but that’s not what I’m here for Tay,” Ray chuckled, smirking at Fraser.

Fraser actually laughed, stopping short and wincing at the pain that shot across his ribs, but he smiled at Ray as he sat down carefully in his chair.

Tayla glared at him.

“Hey… if I ever did flip the coin, it’d be for you Benny,” he winked.

“Jesus Christ,” Tayla sighed, rolling her eyes and walking off.

Fraser chuckled, undoing the buttons on his uniform.

“Me too Ray,” he grinned.

They could hear Tayla banging around and muttering in the laundry room. Followed by the slam of cabinet doors in the downstairs bathroom.

By the time both of them managed to wrestle their shirts off she came back with blankets that she must have thrown in the dryer for a couple minutes as they were warm where she wrapped them around their shoulders and she dumped a pile of first aid supplies on the table.

There wasn’t much she could do for Fraser’s bruised ribs or Ray’s black eyes, but she tended to their injuries with as much care as she could.

The blood on Fraser’s face was mostly just from a gash above his eyebrow and he would probably have a shiner to match Ray’s come the morning. She handed them both ice packs for their eyes while she cleaned up the rest.

Ray told most of the story, some of Zuko’s lackeys catching them off guard. By then he had just made the split on his lip worse and Fraser took over the telling while she cleaned up Ray.

His eyelids were starting to droop by the time she finished and she kissed him on the forehead.

“Take the guest bed hun.”

“Thanks Tay,” he mumbled, patting Fraser’s shoulder as he headed upstairs.

“C’mon,” she smiled, taking Fraser’s hand and leading them upstairs.

She helped him finish getting undressed and crawled in carefully next to him.

“Sorry,” he groaned when he winced in pain.

“It’s okay,” she said quietly, finding a way to curl up next to him that didn’t put pressure on his ribs. “Kinda sucks, I worry about you… both of you… being cops. But… it’s also something I kinda love about you.”

He grinned and closed his eyes as she kissed him.

 

* * *

 

For a split second the next morning she panicked, hearing banging coming from downstairs but when Benton groaned next to her, also being woken up from the noise, she remembered the night before, he and Ray showing up on her doorstep.

“If he fucks up my kitchen I swear to God I’ll kill him.”

Fraser chuckled and grinned at her when she looked over at him.

 

* * *

 

“Hey… I was gonna make you guys breakfast,” Ray offered, spatula in hand when Fraser and Tayla came down the stairs.

“In bed?” Fraser asked.

Ray froze, wide eyed look at his face.

“Did you… did you just make a sex joke?”

Fraser met Tayla’s eyes where she was pouring them coffee and smirked, sitting down at the table.

“Wow… she’s really rubbing off on you,” Ray said, waving the spatula towards Tayla and turning back to the stove.

“Well… technically speaking… I rub off on her,” Fraser shot back, deadpan.

Tayla giggled and tried not to snort her coffee.

“Oh my god!” Ray said, throwing the spatula and clapping his hands over his ears.

“We rub off on each other,” Tayla winked.

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Ray shouted bee-lining towards the living room. “Make your own damn breakfast you pervs!”

 


End file.
